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EARLY 

IMPRESSIONS: 

OR, 

EVIDENCES OF THE SECRET OPERATIONS 

OF THE 

DIVINE WITNESS 

IN THE 

MINDS OF CHILDREN. 

COMPILED BY JANE JOHNSON. 



PHILADELPHIA: 

T. E. CHAPMAN— 74 NORTH FOURTH ST, 

1844. 



7'y / 

"7T- 



CHAPMAN AND JONES, PRINTERS, 
Office of the "Friends 9 VL/*eekly Intelligencer, 99 

No. 3 South Fifth St. Philadelphia. 




INTRODUCTION. 



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The following narratives show that even 
very young children are so cared for by their 
heavenly Parent, that he gives them his own 
holy Spirit to guide them along safely 
through their infantile years : — and if they 
yield obedience to its dictates, it will lead them 
away from all that is wrong, and teach them 
to do that which is right. 

A beloved Friend, (Job Scott,) sensible of 
the excellency of this gift, in his Journal thus 
writes : — 

" Oh ! that children and all people would 
be careful in their very early years, and as they 
grow up and advance in life, to mind the re- 
proofs of instruction in their own breasts. — 
This something, though they know not what 
it is, that checks them in secret for evil, both 
before and after they yield to the temptation : 



IV 

often warning them beforehand not to touch or 
taste, partake of or commit iniquity ; and af- 
terwards condemning them if they do so : and 
inwardly inclining them to a life of religion 
and virtue." 

" This is the very thing, dear young people, 
whereby God worketh in you, to will and to do 
what is right ; and by which he will, as you 
cleave to it and work with it, enable you to 
work out your soul's salvation. Despise it not ; 
do no violence to its motions ; love it, cherish it; 
reverence it: hearken to its pleadings with 
you ; give up without delay to its requirings, 
and obey its teachings. 

" It is God's messenger for good to thy im- 
mortal soul ; its voice is truly the voice of the 
living God. Hear it, and it will lead thee; 
obey it, and it will save thee from the power 
of sin ; and will finally lead thee to the man- 
sions of rest and peace in heaven." 

Some of the incidents recorded in the follow- 
ing pages, are very simple — They have been 



V 

collected in the belief that they will be read by 
some dear children, who, (like little Samuel, 
spoken of in the scriptures,) have heard the 
voice of the inward Teacher, but " wist not 
who it was/ 5 

Let these remember that all here spoken of, 
who gave heed to the gentle intimations of 
this good spirit, became obedient happy chil- 
dren. 



AN ADDRESS 

FROM A FATHER, TO THE READERS OF THIS 
LITTLE VOLUME. 

" Suffer little children to come unto me, and 
forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of 
Heaven" — This was the declaration of the 
blessed Jesus ; and I am confirmed in the belief 
that children feel the gentle touches of the 
heavenly Father's love, much earlier than is 
generally supposed. One instance I now re- 
member, of a child but little more than three 
years old, who, in a silent sitting in a Friend's 
family, was so overcome with the influence of 
Divine love, (which seemed to pervade all 
minds present,) that she was melted into tears. 
Having had a full opportunity of observing, 
from a continued intimacy with this child until 
she became a woman and a mother of precious 
children, I may say, impressions from the same 
Divine source have continued to attend her, 
gently leading and guiding- her until the present 
day; filling the mind with sweet peace, and 



the incomes of heavenly Goodness, as obe- 
dience has been yielded to its monitions ; and 
gently reproving when forgetful or disobedi- 
ent. 

What this secret something, this inward mo- 
nitor is, little children seem often not to know, 
though they feel it to reprove them for doing 
wrong, and to speak peace when they do right. 
It has many names : it is called the Grace of 
God ; the Spirit of Truth ; the light of Christ, 
or Christ within. It matters not what it is 
called ; for, if we are obedient to its dictates, 
it will fill the soul with love, whereby true 
happiness is experienced. Oh ! that children 
would early learn to yield to its teachings. 

Read, precious children, the following narra- 
tives of the early experience of others. Bring 
the subject close home, ask yourselves this 
question : — Have not I witnessed something 
like this ; convicting me for doing wrong, re- 
proving me for telling a falsehood, for using 
bad words, or for deceiving others ? and, on 
the other hand, when I have done as I was 
bidden, when I have been obedient to what I 
knew to be right, have I not felt comfortable, 



peaceful and quiet ? Well, dear child, these 
feelings are the operations of Heavenly love, 
which, if yielded to, will lead thee and guide 
thee into all truth. 



EARLY REMEMBRANCES 

OF ONE NOW IN THE DECLINE OF LIFE. 

The object of preserving these accounts, is 
to show forth the goodness of the Almighty 
in his dealings with me in my youth. May 
they be the means of encouragement to all oth- 
ers, to give early attention and obedience to 
the dictates of his holy Spirit in their own 
minds. 

The first of my remembrance was, I suppose, 
when I had attained my third or fourth year. 
In those days, first-day afternoon meetings were 
held; which furnished opportunities for little 
children and young people to attend. I, among 
others, was taken by my concerned mother, 
who placed me by her side, and taught me to 
sit still. The novelty and solemnity of the 
scene, might at first have attracted my atten- 



10 

tion : but there was also a feeling of the influ- 
ence of good, which arrested my childish 
mind. I well remember the sensations and de- 
sires of my heart, though I was then uncon- 
scious whence they were derived. The love 
of goodness, and the desire to become a good 
man, were seriously impressed on my childish 
understanding. 

At that time there was a Friend who was 
an eminent minister of the meeting to which I 
belonged ; and I now think it probable, that 
even little children were baptized into an inde- 
scribable feeling of something good, under his 
ministry : but the impressions above alluded to, 
according to the best of my recollection, were 
made and often renewed, in silent meetings. I 
loved to go, and to sit by the side of my dear 
mother, whose care and example, as well as 
her prayers, I believe have been a great bles- 
sing to me. 

I take it to be about the fifth year of my 
age, that an incident occurred which was the 
occasion of bringing my mind to an acquain- 
tance with the Divine law of mercy, gentleness, 
and tender-heartedness. I found it to be a 
law of prohibition against cruelty, wantonness 



11 

and thoughtlessness ; for I was now old enough 
to think : but not thinking that animals could 
feel as well as children, the thought occurred 
to try, while in the innocent exercise of throw- 
ing sticks, chips, and stones, whether I could 
hit a chicken that was not far from me. 

After various efforts in this trial of strength, 
I succeeded in hitting the innocent chicken 
with a stone. It fell ; it stretched back its 
head in agony, and appeared to be dying. Hor- 
ror and sorrow seized my infant soul ; and un- 
der a sense of the cruelty I had committed, I 
retired into the house and shed many tears. 
My sympathy vas keenly awakened toward 
the suffering of an innocent little animal, and 
my remorse was great, being myself the cause 
of it. When inquired of concerning the occa- 
sion of my weeping, I was afraid or ashamed 
to tell the real reason. The evil of the act was 
now clearly shown me. I saw that it was 
wicked to hurt any thing wantonly. My heart 
learned to feel tenderness towards every living 
thing that could feel pain, and I saw that in all 
my childish sports and plays, I must avoid cru- 
elty. 

This Divine law, thus early impressed on my 



12 

mrodj has been of great use to me. In my 
youthful days, it preserved me from many evils. 
It kept me from joining in many sports that 
naughty boys are apt to indulge in. Many a 
bird's nest has been left unmolested, many an 
innocent butterfly or other insect has been 
spared, because of this tender feeling in my 
heart. And yet the example of others older 
than myself, often operated to prevent the free 
and full exercise of this heaven-born principle 
of mercy and tenderness. Certain birr's were 
considered noxious and cruel, — certain insects 
and reptiles were said to be poisonous and dan- 
gerous ; and therefore they ought to be de- 
stroyed. Among the feathered tribes, king- 
birds and black-birds came under this descrip- 
tion. Their nests and eggs were often sacri- 
ficed, regardless of the laws of mercy, gentle- 
ness, and compassion. Their mournful cries 
were disregarded, when plunder deprived them 
of their nests, their eggs and their young. 
Many an insect or reptile was killed without 
remorse ; because the example and opinions of 
men, overbalanced for a time the gentle impres- 
sions of tender-heartedness and mercy. 

Another circumstance occurred in my early 



13 

youth, that tended powerfully to check the 
growth of evil, and to produce serious 
thoughts of the manner of my life, and 
of my actions and conduct. During a se- 
vere storm, a vivid flash of lightning, with a 
heavy peal of thunder, had such an effect on my 
aunt who lived wdth us, that she fell to the 
floor, and screamed with flight. The children 
supposed she had been struck with the light- 
ning and was killed. Awful alarm and terror 
pervaded our minds, and it was with some diffi- 
culty w T e could be pacified. Our dear father 
at length calmed our fears, by referring to the 
Almighty power that could preserve, — telling 
us that all the men in the world could not hin- 
der or control the lightning. 

The thoughts of death, and a sudden change 
from this world to a lasting home, were sub- 
jects that deeply absorbed my youthful mind. 
My aunt, though somewhat stunned, was not 
hurt, and soon recovered ; being affected by 
the sudden shock, and not by actual contact 
with the lightning, which struck a tree, twen- 
ty or thirty rods distant. The effect of this 
was not soon lost or forgotten. I was induced, 
through the visitations of Divine goodness, to 



14 

take heed to my ways, and to endeavour so 
to live as to be prepared to die, even if my 
death should be by means of lightning. The 
thoughts of death were often renewed during 
the summer season, when lightning was seen 
and thunder heard, even at a distance. But 
when near, solemnity and deep searching of 
heart were known. 

Many an instructive season of solemn silence 
has been passed during thunder-storms. Much 
tenderness of spirit has been witnessed at such 
times. Nor was my heavenly Protector want- 
ing, to show the path of duty, and to point out 
the errors and omissions of my life. I now 
look back with thankfulness for his fatherly 
chastisements, and the visitations of his love, 
manifested in seasons when under the influ- 
ence of fear from these operations of the ele- 
ments. 

At another season, my father was very ill 
with the small pox, insomuch that his life was 
despaired of for some time. During his extreme 
illness, my mind was seriously impressed with 
the idea of his being taken away from us by 
death. I began to feel what trouble was. I 
looked to the Lord in my distress, and cried 



15 

unto the Holy One of Israel. He heard my 
prayers, and sealed deep instruction on my 
mind, through this season of affliction and trial. 
I renewedly felt the need of guardian care, and 
of greater watchfulness, as well as concern to 
fill up my duty faithfully. They were days not 
soon forgotten, but it was good for me to thus 
be afflicted. My covenant with my heavenly 
Parent in the day of my distress, was remem- 
bered afterwards to my profit, and he was 
mindful of me. 

I had inclinations to vanity and folly ; I had 
temptations to deviate from the discipline of 
parental restraint ; yet merciful Goodness for- 
sook me not in the slippery paths of youth. The 
visitations of the preceding years had left a 
deep impression on my youthful tender mind. 
I had become acquainted with trouble, and the 
consolations of looking to heaven for support, in 
seasons of trial. Hence, when deep conviction 
followed my deviating from the path of recti- 
tude, I only found peace in returning as a peni- 
tent to implore forgiveness of my heavenly 
Father. Nor was he wanting in the manifesta- 
tions of judgment and of mercies to my soul. 
When I turned at his reproof, he healed my 



16 

wounds, and gave me to feel of his mercy, for- 
giveness, and the sweet incomes of his love. 

I think it was during the fourteenth year of 
my age that I felt a concern to attend meetings 
held near the middle of the week; for, although 
mother was a diligent attender of meetings, 
twice a week, father generally omitted those 
on fourth-days, — especially in the busy season 
of the year. I was also kept at home to work 
at such seasons. But as this desire increased 
in me to go to mid-week meetings, I at length 
asked liberty to attend; and he gave me permis- 
sion. This request had to be repeated several 
times afterwards before he understood that I 
considered it a settled duty to be diligent in 
going to such meetings. Although it was a 
task to my diffident mind to ask permission, yet 
I do not remember ever being refused. At 
length it appeared to have this effect on fa- 
ther's mind, — he went more frequently, and in a 
while became a steady attender of those meet- 
ings. 

Though in the slippery paths of youth I was 
shielded from many exposures to evil, I was 
not exempt from the trials and conflicts of the 
cross, in the submission of my own selfish will. 



17 

I ventured sometimes in my father's absence to 
get his gun, and exercise myself, first in shoot- 
ing at a mark, and then sometimes in trying 
to shoot birds. It was well that no serious 
accident occurred ; but I was no less blame- 
able on this account. I wanted to learn to 
shoot with a gun ; but I ought to have consul- 
ted an experienced father. In this unjustifia- 
ble and secret way, I amused myself for some 
time, in learning to load and fire a gun. This 
increased my desire to have one of my own, as 
my father's was a very heavy one. With the 
money raised from my own industry, I contem- 
plated the purchase of a gun,- that I might have 
one of my own. 

Whilst I was waiting for an increase of my 
funds, I procured a cow's horn from a tan-yard, 
and finished it off for a powder-horn, to which 
ashot-bag was fixed of my own make. Noth- 
ing now remained but the amount of money 
equal to the price of a new gun ; unless indeed 
we except a mental feeling: for the nearer I 
approached the completion of my project, the 
keener and clearer were my convictions,of the 
cruelty of gunning, and shooting innocent an- 
imals for amusement. 



18 

During the time of privately using my fa- 
ther's gun in his absence, after my task of 
work which he had assigned me was fully ac- 
complished, I sometimes spent an afternoon or 
part of one in the woods, the fields and hedges, 
to seek for game ; and at times, with powder 
and shot, destroyed some innocent lives. But 
when I took a view 7 of my conduct, and seri- 
ously meditated on the time thus mis-spent, the 
reflections became increasingly painful. I of- 
ten thought how much better the time might 
have been occupied among my books and other 
employments. These convictions produced by 
the illuminating influence of the Light of truth, 
mercy and goodness, so operated upon my mind 
that before the purchase of a gun was accom- 
plished, I totally relinquished the idea, and ne- 
ver purchased or owned one. 

I rejoice in my deliverance from this tempta- 
tion to violate the tender sensibilities of truth 
and compassion. I feel the sacred obligation 
of gratitude to the Father of mercy and kind- 
ness, who redeemed me from this delusive 
amusement, in the days wben the ardour of 
youthful desires w r as strong. I ascribe it to 
his grace and good Spirit, producing that seed 



19 

of gentleness, early unfolded in my infant 
heart, in a tender sympathy towards innocent 
animals. 

Another memorable era in the annals of my 
life, occurred soon after I had completed my 
sixteenth year. In my father's family, and 
so far as my limited observation extended 
among Friends and neighbours, the practice of 
making a solemn pause on sitting clown at table 
to partake of the bounties of Providence, was 
unknown to me. In Dilworth's Spelling Book, 
I had read the church forms of what is called 
"Grace before and after meat." But I had 
never witnessed the forrh nor the substance, as 
a practice among Friends. This subject closely 
arrested my attention one day as I was following 
the plough, when the powerful overshadowings 
of Divine love were renewedly extended to my 
soul. Under this precious feeling, it was given 
me to see the necessity and duty of making a 
solemn silent pause at table ; in which the mind 
might feel reverently thankful, before partaking 
of the blessings of heaven in the provisions 
made for these bodies. I saw that hitherto, I 
had been too careless, and unthoughtful whence 
these good things were derived. I saw the 



20 

substance of " Grace before meat" — that in so- 
lemn silence I should look up to the bountiful 
Benefactor, and partake of his blessings with 
thankfulness of heart. A like pause after eating 
or drinking, I saw w T as the substance of 
" Grace after meat," and a duty opened for my 
future observance. 

The place w^here I was when these views 
were opened to me, and the joy and sweetness 
that attended my mind, remained a long time 
fresh in my memory, and confirmed me in a full 
belief of its being a revelation of the Father to 
my poor soul. Joy and gladness filled my heart 
for the unspeakable favour, so that my cup 
seemed to overflow : and a cheering hope re- 
vived that I should, through obedience and 
faithfulness, experience an increase in the 
knowledge of his inspeaking word. 

As noted before, the practice of silent wait- 
ing at table not being observed by others, it be- 
came a close trial to nie to make a silent pause, 
and be singular from the rest of the family. — 
But as I endeavoured to be obedient in fulfill- 
ing this reasonable duty, my heavenly Father 
was not wanting at such seasons to solemnize 
my spirit, and influence my heart with grateful 



21 

sensations. Sometimes a short sentence of 
thankful acknowledgment livingly ran through 
my mind, and was silently offered up to Him 
who sees in secret, and who rewarded me with 
peace in my dedication. 

My silence and example on the subject of 
this duty to the Almighty, appeared to have an 
influence on the family ; for, in course of time, 
it became a common practice to observe a si- 
lent pause at table, before beginning to eat, not 
only in my father's family, but generally in the 
neighbourhood, among Friends. 

As I obeyed these manifestations of Divine 
Truth in my own mind, I found the aid of his 
grace was sufficient, when in sincerity I sought 
it, to enable me to fulfil these duties. Not 
only was a solemn and grateful pause to be ob- 
served at dinner-time, but I found the need of a 
renewal of spiritual strength, by and through 
the exercise of waiting upon my Heavenly Fa- 
ther, till I conld find access to his throne in the 
spirit of supplication; frequently finding it need- 
ful to retire alone, and sit in silence, waiting for 
his arising in my soul. 

As I kept my eye to the Divine light thus 
operating on my mind, and honestly endeavour- 



22 

ed to follow its dictates, my heart was many 
times filled with the consolations of His love. 
I had many heavenly openings in Divine things, 
in regard to my everlasting peace and well-be- 
ing. For these evidences of his condescending 
goodness, my spirit did and still does praise and 
magnify the name of the Lord, my Saviour. — 
My heart was often melted into contrition, and 
my prayers were offered up in sincerity and hu- 
mility for his holy aid, direction, and protection 
in the way I should walk. 



ISAAC MARTIN, 

OF RAHWAY, NEW JERSEY, 

Gives this account of himself, desiring that 
every tender sensation in the infant mind, arising 
from a conviction of the understanding by the 
Power of Truth, may be cultivated : — 

" When I was about eight years old, I felt 
the reproofs of instruction, to the tendering of my 
heart. 

Being tempted to take a nut out of a barrel 
at a neighbour's house, I was, (when reaching 



23 

after it) secretly smitten with a conviction that 
it was wrong ; so that I durst not take it. A 
clearer manifestation of the Divine witness ope- 
rating in my heart, I have no recollection of 
since. 

Having related the circumstance in the family, 
my dear father, like a tender parent deeply con- 
cerned for my present and future welfare, in- 
formed me what it was, — even the Spirit of 
Truth, that had thus met with and reproved 
me ; and he directed me always to take heed 
unto it. 

I often used to read Friends 5 books, particu- 
larly their dying sayings, from which I receiv- 
ed much instruction ; being animated at times 
with desires to follow the examples of those 
worthies, especially of children near my own 
age, whose lives w T ere pious and their end hap- 
py. The good Remembrancer — the holy Spirit 
was near, to excite me to examine myself, to 
see whether I was not short of them in purity 
and also to animate me to a watchful circum- 
spect walking. 

Thus the Great Shepherd extends the crook 
of his love to his children in their infant years ; 



24 

even when, like Samuel, they are not yet ac- 
quainted with his voice." 



AN ACCOUNT OF PHEBE WOOD, 

OF PLYMOUTH, 

When a very little girl as given by herself, 
showing that through the immediate operation 
of the Divine spirit without outward teachings, 
she was convinced of the great truth, that 
" there is a God, who ruleth in the earth." 

" When six years old, being alone in my bed, 
a feeling came over me which made me sensi- 
ble of the existence of a Great First Cause; — 
a Power to whom I owed my being. So pow- 
erful and clear was this conviction that ever 
after I was careful not to offend by transgres- 
sion ; and knowing I was dependant on Him 
for all things, I felt it right to pray to Him. 

In the time of the revolutionary war, it 
was hard to get many things ; and among the 
rest, needles were very scarce and we had very 
few. One day my mother was going from 



25 

home, and gave me a task in sewing, which I 
was to do while she was away : but I soon lost 
my needle in the grass, and as I could not find 
it, I was in great trouble. In my great dis- 
tress, my thoughts were turned to Him, whom 
my heart acknowledged to have been the giver 
of many good gifts ; and I went away by my- 
self, and prayed very earnestly that I might 
find my needle. Next morning, as I was walk- 
ing about, the needle stuck in my toe, and I re- 
ceived it as an answer to my petition. 

My father was concerned for the good of his 
children, and tried to bring us up in much sim- 
plicity. This was not pleasant to me ; for I 
wanted to appear as those did whom I visited. 
But the same impression through which I 
had been made to know there was a great 
First-cause, and to fear to offend him, so oper- 
ated upon my mind that I could not indulge in 
any liberty which I thought would disoblige 
my parent ; though I sometimes wished he was 
more indulgent like some other men." 



26 



SAMUEL KILPIN. 



In the following simple account given of him- 
self by Samuel Kilpin, little children may see 
that the same feeling or impression, which 
operated on the mind of Phebe Wood to her 
comfort, because she did that which was right, 
operated upon his mind to his discomfort, be- 
cause he did that which was wrong. But when 
he acknowledged his fault and asked forgive- 
ness, it then spake peace to him. 

Many little children can, no doubt, remem- 
ber times when the same good Spirit thus ope- 
rated upon their minds, causing trouble when 
they had done wrong, even though no out- 
ward eye had seen the act, nor outward ear 
heard of it. But this Spirit searcheth all things, 
and if followed will lead into all truth and 
happiness. 

Samuel Kilpin says of himself, " When seven 
years old, I was left in charge of the shop : a 
man passed by, crying, ' Little lambs, all white 
and clean, at one penny each.' In my eager- 
ness to get one, I lost all self-command ; and, 



27 

taking a penny out of the drawer, I made the 
purchase. My keen-eyed, wise mother, asked me 
how I came by the money. I evaded the ques- 
tion by something like a falsehood, for I kept 
back the truth. The lamb was placed on the 
chimney-shelf, and much admired ; but to me it 
w r as a source of trouble. Continually there 
sounded in my ear (from the spirit-voice,) 
' thou shalt not steal — thou shalt not lie/ 
Guilt and darkness overcame me ; and in 
agony I went to a hay-loft, (the place is now T 
perfectly in my recollection,) and there prayed 
and pleaded for mercy and pardon, with groan- 
ings that could not be uttered. With joy I 
left the loft, from a believing application of the 
text (offered by the good spirit-voice,) ' thy 
sins which are many, are forgiven thee/ I 
then went to my mother, told her what I had 
done, and sought her forgiveness." 



28 



TO THE YOUNG READER. 

In early life, finding that to be happy I must 
be good, it was my practice, on going to bed, 
to offer a petition to my Heavenly Father for 
preservation from evil, and for forgiveness 
when I had deviated from the right way. On 
one occasion (under a secret sense that this 
was one of my weaknesses,) the petition was, 
that I might be kept from vanity. Almost im- 
mediately upon uttering the desire, I was made 
sensible of the inconsistency of which I had 
been guilty ; having been a few minutes before 
engaged in putting my hair in pins, that it 
might curl prettily the next day : thus nurs- 
ing the feeling which I had so soon after 
prayed to be delivered from. 

Through this secret intimation, the swift 
Witness showed me that if I would be helped to 
overcome this vanity, I must help myself, so far 
as not to encourage its growth. I yielded to 
the impressions then made ; and I believe nev- 
er again put a pin in my hair. And as this 
witness for Truth was further attended to, it 



29 

led gradually out of other vanities, and showed 
me too, that I was created in order that by 
walking with this heavenly Guide, my whole 
life might speak the praise of our great 
Creator. 

So far as this witness for Truth, this gen- 
tle intimation which first showed me the incon- 
sistency of my conduct, has been attended to, 
just so far have I been enabled to come up to 
the mark set before me. It has been, when 
taken heed unto, a sufficient protector in every 
season of temptation, in every time of danger. 

Surely I can speak of the excellency of the 
secret monitions of Heavenly Love ; for it is 
thereby only, that I have obtained any know T - 
ledge of gospel truths or promises. For, though 
blessed with kind parents who watched over me 
to guard me from evil, yet it was the inspeak- 
ing Word, the secret touches of heavenly Love, 
which gently and gradually led my desires aw T ay 
from hurtful things, and inclined me to seek af- 
ter that which was good. So simply convincing 
were the operations of the Divine Spirit, that I 
believe I never doubted the influence under 
which I at times acted, being a heavenly one ; 
and, yielding (in my young days) submissively 



30 

and unreservedly thereto, I practically acknow- 
ledged, " It is the Lord." 



AN INCIDENT 

RELATED BY JOHN FOULKE, A FRIEND LATELY 
DECEASED, WHO LIVED AT RICHLAND, PENN- 
SYLVANIA. 

" When very young, I was one morning told 
by my parents to stay from school to plant 
some beans. Being anxious not to miss attend- 
ing school as usual, I went to work ; but in- 
stead of planting them, as my father directed 
me, I put many in one place, and hurried to 
school. But a feeling of condemnation made 
me very uneasy ; and I thought too that when 
the beans came 7 ip, my parent would see that 
I had disobeyed him ; so I concluded to pull 
up a part of them. But now my distress in- 
creased, until I gave up to acknowledge my 
fault and ask forgiveness ; which was readily 
granted." 



31 



FROM A MOTHER. 

FOR THIS LITTLE VOLUME. 

Little children should regard the goodness 
of their heavenly Father, because of his guar- 
dian care over them. He makes them sensible 
of the evils to which they are exposed, and 
gives them to feel peace and comfort for every 
good action ; such as obedience to the desires 
of their affectionate parents ; kindness to all 
around them, — and tenderness to all living 
creatures ; not wilfully hurting or tormenting 
any thing ; for He who is great and mighty, 
who made the world and all that is therein, 
condescends to be with little girls and boys 
who think on Him, and secretly ask his help to 
keep them from harm. He ^sees and knows 
every action of their lives, 

I well remember, when a child, the secret 
reproofs of my heavenly Father when I had 
done wrong, and the peace of mind I felt when 
I looked to him for preservation. When quite 
young, though fond of levity, the pernicious 
tendency resulting from indulging in reading 



32 

the trifling publications of that day, was so 
strongly impressed upon my mind, that I felt, if 
I would have that peace I desired, I must entire- 
ly give it up. 

One day,when in company w T ith several older 
than myself, while engaged in reading a work 
of fiction which afforded no instruction, I was 
forcibly struck with the manner in which we 
were spending our time ; and, after some in- 
ward conflicts, I left my young friends and sat 
down alone ; here my mind enjoyed a solemn 
covering. Then did I desire that that Power 
which had thus far strengthened me, would 
continue to be my guide : and whenever I have 
yielded to its blessed influence and submitted 
to its clear manifestations, even in the days of 
my youth, it has always preserved me from 
sorrow, and shielded me from harm. 



33 



SECRET CONVICTIONS. 

Feeling inclined to preserve some account 
of the dealings of the Good Spirit toward me 
in early life, I note a seemingly small circum- 
stance, but in its consequences sufficient to 
serve as a watch- word to me, from that day to 
this ; inciting me to observe a care, not know- 
ingly to do wrong. 

When young, I was placed apprentice where 
there were a number of other boys, to learn 
the tanning and currying business. Each set of 
boys had certain little privileges allowed them. 
Those in the tan-yard were permitted to tan 
certain small skins, and those in the currying 
shop to curry them, each on their own account. 
One of the boys belonging to the currying 
shop, not satisfied with his privilege, undertook 
to invade the business belonging to the boys in 
the tan-yard, (of whom I was one) by introdu- 
cing certain green skins to be tanned. Feeling 
offended at the imposition, one day when there 
was no one present, I took the skins, and 
threw them all down the common-sewer. — 

B* 



34 

There was considerable inquiry made for them, 
and suspicions aroused as to what had become 
of them. Thinking, as no one saw me, that 
all was safe, I denied having done any thing 
with them. But when all seemed over and I 
had time for reflection, I began to view my ac- 
tion in its true light : and although at first I 
tried to justify myself for throwing the skins 
away, because the boy had no right to invade 
my interest ; yet for denying the act I could 
find no excuse. It was cowardly, mean, and 
showed an absence of all honorable feeling. 

As those convictions continued to dwell with 
me, (for they seemed to have taken their abode 
there day and night,) they caused me sorrow 
and condemnation ; under which I saw clearly 
that it would have been better to have suffered 
my small interest to be encroached upon, than 
to have taken that means to redress myself. I 
therefore became desirous to be relieved from 
those feelings of distress. No other way of- 
fered to my view, but to make a full confession 
and restitution ; but I feared the shame of do- 
ing so. This caused me to carry my burden 
for the space of twelve or fifteen months, be- 
fore I could give up to make the sacrifice. — 



35 

During this time I often felt humbled, and 
would gladly have given in lieu of a confes- 
sion, any thing I had in possession, or endured 
some hard bodily service. 

At length, finding nothing else could wash 
away those feelings of condemnation which 
constantly marred my peace, I resolved to 
make the sacrifice ; and, at a suitable oportuni- 
ty, I confessed to my fellow-apprentice that I 
was the person who had thrown his skins 
away. I also told him the trouble I had expe- 
rienced for so doing, and offered to pay him 
double value. He appeared much surprised at 
the information, and was so much touched as 
to be scarcely willing to take any compensa- 
tion : but at last, for my satisfaction, he took 
what we considered the value of them. 

My mind was now relieved of the burden I 
had so long borne ; and instead thereof, was 
filled with joy and peace. In addition to 
which, I found I rose in a moral point of view, 
in the estimation of all my shop-mates, and of 
this individual in particular. 

As now, by this act, I seemed to have assu- 
med a new character, and was differently esti- 
mated by my fellow-apprentices, I felt the re- 



36 

sponsibility of my situation, and the necessity 
of being more circumspect in all my actions. 

It was not long before I had my faith tried, 
in having to bear my testimony against a prac- 
tice then in vogue, of each boy giving "what 
was called his freedom treat, at the expiration 
of his apprenticeship. This treat generally 
consisted of strong drink ; and was often the 
occasion of much excess. Those treats that 
occurred after I had resolved not to offend 
against my peace, and before my own turn 
came, I simply declined to partake of, and felt 
myself excused from bearing much verbal tes- 
timony against them. But when I looked for- 
ward to the time that I should be expected to 
give my parting treat, I felt much fear and 
weakness ; for I knew, were I to give one, I 
would bring my mind into similar feelings of 
sorrow and trouble, to those which I experi- 
enced for the bad deed before related ; and not 
to give one, would, as I thought, displease all 
my shop-mates. 

These thoughts caused much exercise of 
mind, with secret aspirations that I might be 
strengthened to do what was right. 

At length, the morning of the day of my free- 



37 

dom came. Upon reflection, I concluded to 
state my difficulties and scruples to one of the 
journeymen who was the most active promoter 
of such practices, and told him they must ex- 
pect nothing of the kind from me. In return, in- 
stead, of being treated with jeers and scoffs, as 
I feared, he told me they did not expect it ; of 
which T was glad. 

Thus, what for months had appeared to my 
view as a mountain, upon a near approach 
dwindled to a mole-hill ; as many of our diffi- 
culties would do, if we met them under the in- 
fluence of a right spirit. 

A Friend. 

The preceding account carries with it encour- 
agement to confess our faults, rather than hide 
them, and also to yield a simple submission to 
the leadings or intimations of the inward Mon- 
itor. 



38 



SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE OF 
JACOB HITTER, 

A MINISTER AMONG FRIENDS, 

In which are shown the horrors of war and it 
proven to be at variance with the Christian 
Spirit, which, if allowed to influence us, would 
bring peace on earth and good will to all men. 

" It has been on my mind many times, to 
leave some account of the gracious dealings of 
the Lord with me from my youth up ; and now, 
in the seventy-first year of my age, the remem- 
brance of the following particulars has been 
brought very fresh before me. 

My parents were Jacob and Elizabeth Ritter 
who came from Germany. When they arrived 
in America, they bound themselves as servants 
to pay for their passage. My father served 
three years and my mother four years. When 
the period of their servitude was over, they 
married ; and, taking each a small bundle on 
their heads, it being all their worldly wealth, 
they went out into the woods and made a set- 
tlement in what is now called Springfield, 
Bucks County, Pennsylvania. Here I was 
born in the year 1757. My parents were 



39 

honest and industrious ; and I, being their first 
child, was brought up to bear hardships, and 
soon became accustomed to the use of the grub- 
bing hoe. 

When we had stayed some time at this place, 
my father bought a small tract of land not far 
off, and removed his family to it. I remember, 
when we reached it, we found that the dwel- 
ling house had been burned down, and nothing 
but the chimney was left standing. My fa- 
ther went out to work by the day at his trade of 
shoemaking, in order to earn a little money ; 
and my mother taking me with her, began to 
clear the land ; and I became expert in chop- 
ping down trees. Many times, after I had 
been thus employed, I would sit down on a 
stump, and eat my dinner of cold pork and 
bread, with a. relish which no luxury could 
give. The little birds used to hop about me 
without fear, and I amused myself with scat- 
tering crumbs of bread for them, and was re- 
paid for it by their innocent songs and sportive 

When about thirteen years of age, he notices 
a dream, or impressions received during the 
night, the substance of which is as follows : 



40 

" I used to love to throw myself down on 
the grass before my father's door, after I had 
finished my daily labor, and look at the sky ; 
and when I observed the bright moon and 
stars, or the changing of the clouds, I used to 
think, surely there must be some Great Pow- 
er that created and formed all these things. 
For, though I had often felt the secret touches 
of Divine Love, yet I wist not what it was. 

After an evening thus spent, I got up off the 
grass and went to bed. During the night fol- 
lowing, I received a visitation of heavenly 
Love, which covered my spirit with great qui- 
etness ; and on my arising the next morning, 
my mother took notice of it, and asked me the 
cause. On my telling it, she so far acknow- 
ledged it to be a heavenly visitation, as to 
counsel me to be a good boy and fear God, 
saying, c he has a work for thee to do.' 

Time passed on ; and when I was about six- 
teen years of age, I was drawn into solemn si- 
lence, and stood alone in the woods, when a 
sight and sense came over me of the horrors of 
war, though I then did not know the mean- 
ing of it. However, when I was about twenty, 
there was a muster of the militia in our neigh- 



41 

bourhood, and the clergyman of the Lutheran 
church to which I belonged, preached up the 
propriety and necessity of standing in defence 
of our country. So I was persuaded, against 
my better judgment, to join the army ; and 
taking up my musket, I entered the American 
service. 

I saw much of a military life, both in the 
camp and in the field, and encountered many 
hardships. The company and battalion to 
which I belonged, marched down to Brandy- 
wine at Chads-ford, and joined the army under 
the command of Washington and La Fayette. 
We had orders to work day and night to erect 
batteries, in order to arrest the progress of the 
English army. After several days hard labor, 
we became so drowsy that nearly all the men, 
except the sentinels, fell asleep. Washington 
stood in the camp, and called out to us with a 
loud voice, " Boys get up ; but be silent — the 
enemy is nearly upon us." About day-light the 
alarm gun was fired by the British ; then all 6ur 
army made ready for battle. General orders 
were given for every company to maintain 
their ranks, and each man to keep in his place. 
An awful pause preceded the engagement, and 
some of us stood in solemn silence. 



42 

I then remembered what I had seen and felt 
of the mercies of God, and was afresh con- 
vinced that it was contrary to his will for a 
christian to fight. I was sensible in my own 
heart, that I had done wrong in taking up arms ; 
and the terrors of the Lord fell upon me. I 
then secretly supplicated the Almighty for pre- 
servation ; — covenanting, that if He would be 
pleased to deliver me from shedding the blood 
of my fellow-creatures that day, I would never 
fight again. Then heavenly love was shed 
abroad in my heart, and all fear of man was 
entirely taken away. And throughout the en- 
gagement I remained perfectly calm ; though 
the bomb-shells and shot fell around me like 
hail, cutting down my comrades on every side, 
and tearing off the limbs of the trees, like a 
whirlwind. 

It so happened that the standing troops were 
called into action before the militia ; of which 
the brigade to which I belonged, was partly 
composed. Towards evening, our battalion 
was ordered to march forward, and our artil- 
lery advanced to the charge. Our way was 
over the dead and the dying ; and I saw many 
bodies crushed to pieces beneath the wagons, 



43 

and we were bespattered with blood. But no 
orders were given to use our small arms ; and 
thus I was enabled to rejoice that I did not dis- 
charge my musket once that day. Forever 
magnified be the God of my life, that I was 
mercifully delivered from spilling the blood of 
any of my fellow-creatures. 



AN ACCOUNT 

Given by Jacob Ritter, in his public testi- 
mony at Richland meeting, a short time before 
his death, of the time when he first attended 
Friends' meeting. 

"When I was a lad, nine or ten years old, I 
used to play with our neighbour-boys, for 
boys love to be together. One clay they want- 
ed me to go to meeting with them — so I asked 
my father if I might go. He said " For what 
do you want to go to their meeting ? They 
have no preacher there, and there is no use in 
going where there is no preaching. " " But, 
(said he) you may go ; it will do you no harm, 
if you come home as soon as meeting is 



44 

over." So I went barefooted five or six miles 
through the wilderness. 

When we got there, they were all in ; so I 
sat down behind the door. They were very 
quiet, and I took very particular notice of 
them. There was no preaching ; but Oh ! the 
good feeling that I had ! It told me that the 
love of the heavenly Father was shed abroad 
among all his children and people every where. 
So when meeting was over, I went home un- 
der these good feelings ; and my father asked 
me if we had any preaching ? I said no ; but we 
had good feelings ;— and asked him why we 
had not such good feelings at our church ? — 
" Oh !" said he, " we have a minister hired to 
do the work for us." 

I am now an old man. I have had these 
good feelings to-day ; and it has been by living 
under these good feelings, through the good- 
ness and mercy of my heavenly Parent, that I 
have been preserved all through my life." 

By reading the preceding account, given by 
a Friend in his eighty-fifth year, we see the 
excellency of stillness, and understand the com- 
mand, " Be still, and know that I am God." 



45 

For it was when he had left his play, and had 
sat down quietly in a silent meeting, that he 
was first made sensible of an influence which 
he could acknowledge to be the presence of 
Deity, or the overshadowing of heavenly love. 
"We may also conclude, from what he said to 
his father, that even at that tender age he 
knew this feeling of good to be superior to the 
effect produced by the teachings of man. — 
This feeling of good was the operation of the 
good Spirit in him, during a time of outward 
quiet. Now if those who read this account, 
w T ill also be willing to be still and hearken,th.ey 
too w r ill hear the voice of the inward Teach- 
er ; showing them what they should do, and 
what they should leave undone ; and if they 
obey it, it will preserve them as it did this 
aged Friend, by leading them out of all that is 
wrong, — into the secret and sweet feelings of 
heavenly love. 

Jacob Rttter died on tH 15th of the 
12th month, 1841, aged near eighty-five years. 



48 



THE INDIAN'S ACKNOWLEDGMENT 

OF THE DIVINE PRINCIPLE. 

The following short account shows that the 
holy Spirit, in its inward workings, as a re- 
prover for evil doing, was felt and acknowl- 
edged, even by the unlettered child of the for- 
est. It is another evidence, that the love of 
our heavenly Father is universal in its opera- 
tions. 

A poor untutored Indian, on hearing 
the operation of the indwelling Principle and 
its preserving influence simply explained, im- 
mediately recognised its effects in his own ex- 
perience ; saying, that while tarrying a few 
days in a settlement of white people, to sell 
their baskets, &c, some fine pumpkins in a 
neighbouring field attracted his attention ; and 
the desire to possess some, was so strong that 
he clambered over the fence for that purpose. 
But on taking up a large one, he was so sensi- 
bly convicted of the sinfulness of the act, as 
to replace it at once. Yet, on second consid- 
eration, he thought there could be no great 



47 

harm in taking one from the abundance, and he 
needing it so badly too. It was therefore lift- 
ed again from the ground, with the intention of 
carrying it away : but again the inward Witness 
met the feelings of his mind, and he laid it 
down, and retired with the sweet reward of 
peace. 



The following " Counsel to a young person' 5 
was not written for this volume ; but it is in- 
serted, because it is adapted to the pur- 
pose of strengthening in the young, the desire 
after an acquaintance with the good in them- 
selves. The effect of the excellent advice 
therein contained, may be observed in the nar- 
rative appended thereto, containing some ac- 
count of the individual to whom the counsel 
was addressed, and whose spirit was, and re- 
mains to be eminently clothed with "meekness 
and humility." 

COUNSEL TO A YOUNG PERSON. 

It is of very great importance to us, in our 
passing along through time, to make a right be- 
ginning in our early years. If, in the season of 
youth, we lay a good foundation, by wisely 



48 

considering the value of our precious time, and 
habituating ourselves to a course of self-deni- 
al and humility, we shall be likely to pass along 
through succeeding years, with much more tran- 
quility, peace and comfort to ourselves, and 
more usefulness and satisfaction to our fellow- 
creatures, than if the days of our youth are 
wasted in trifling, unprofitable amusements, 
our passions and inclinations indulged, and our 
minds unsubjected to the cross of Christ. 

Now, as to every one there is given a sure 
direction, an inward guide, or holy principle in 
the mind, to distinguish between good and evil, 
and to lead the attentive mind in the way to 
eternal life and happiness ; how necessary it 
is, that we endeavour early to become ac- 
quainted with the voice of this internal Teach- 
er, and to give up our whole hearts in obedi- 
ence to its requirings! The Lord loves an 
early sacrifice. Let this be deeply impressed 
on thy mind ; and also remember the gracious 
promise : " They that seek me early shall find 
me." There is, indeed, abundant encourage- 
ment to give up in obedience to that which is 
made manifest in the heart. 

May thy mind be daily engaged in seeking 



to know what is the holy, divine will concern- 
ing thee. Love retirement and stillness ; love 
sobriety, and to meditate in the law of the 
Lord, written in thy heart. Accustom thyself 
to contemplate on the wonderful condescension 
and loving kindness of infinite wisdom and good- 
ness toward the children of men. Let thy 
spirit be clothed with meekness and humility ; 
for " the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit 
is, in the Divine sight, of great price." Strive 
always to dwell in the holy " fear of the 
Lord, which is the beginning of wisdom/' and 
which " keeps the heart clean;' 5 so shall thy 
days pass on in quietness and tranquillity; and 
that peace of mind which none of the plea- 
sures and vanities of this world can ever pos- 
sibly afford, will be thy happy portion, both 
here and hereafter. 



50 



MEMOIRS OF EARLY DAYS. 

" In looking over my past life, I have been 
led to praise my heavenly Father for his kind 
care over me in keeping me out of many evils, 
and following after me when I was disposed to 
leave Him. Many are the instances which 
occurred when I was young, which go to con- 
vince me of His goodness towards little chil- 
dren 

When about six years old, loving levity and 
mischief, and being at play with my brothers 
and sisters, I was suddenly stopped with a 
feeling of sadness which came over me. Find- 
ing the tears starting in my eyes, through a 
fear lest they should see me I left the nursery 
and retired to a room where I could be alone. 
I sat down, and poured out a simple prayer to 
my heavenly Father, to know why I should 
thus feel. For though now very young, I 
knew at an earlier age to whom to apply 
in all my trials and sorrows. In return for my 
petition, I was clearly shown that I ought not 
to be spending all the time given me for play, 



51 

in mischief and childish folly ; particularly 
in those things which I knew to be wrong: 
such as telling stones in jest, and Other 
naughty tricks. My sorrow was sincere; and 
though I felt sad 5 yet the desire to be good 
"was strongs and I resolved to try and do bet- 
ter in future. 

Often have I had to acknowledge that the 
Good Spirit was near me, to teach me ; and 
when I listened to it, it never led me astray. 

On one occasion my mother sent me to pay 
for a dress, and gave me a dollar note, charging 
me to be careful of it. But, being a wild 
thoughtless child, I ran heedlessly along, and 
stopped by the way to speak with a little girL 
We were soon engaged in talking and laughing, 
and I forgot my mother's charge and lost my 
money. I now knew not what to do. I was 
afraid to return, because I knew I had done 
wrong ; and what could I say ? The note was 
gone, and I could not find it. At first, I thought 
I would go home and say the dress was not 
done, and that I had left the money with the 
person who was to make it. But then were 
felt the convictions of the Good Spirit ; and 
so clearly w T as the error of such a course point- 



52 

eel out, that I resolved to go home and tell the 
truth. My mother knowing my careless dis- 
position, turned away, much hurt with me, 
bidding me go tell my father. This tried me 
much ; for I was a very timid child, and knew 
that I deserved correction. Under this trial, I 
sought strength from my heavenly Protector, 
that I might not shrink from my duty. When 
in great distress, I remembered an account 
which I had read in my^ spelling book, of a lit- 
tle boy who in his father's absence had diso- 
beyed him ; and on his return, went nobly for- 
ward, confessed his fault, asked forgiveness and 
obtained it. This gave me strength ; so when 
my father came in, I told him my trouble and 
the loss I had met w T ith through carelessness. 
I was gently reproved and forgiven. My 
heart was comforted, and great peace was felt 
for telling the truth. 

Thus, as I grew in years, this heavenly 
Teacher continued near me ; at times encir- 
cling me with the sweet influence of his love, 
to the tendering of my spirit ; and causing me 
to feel for the afflictions of others. 

When about eight years old, I was taken by 
a sister older than myself, to see a c negro bu- 



53 

Tying/ as she called it, unknown to our parents* 
It was something new T to me, as I had never 
attended a funeral ; and I looked for- 
ward to it, as something that would cause 
some sport. But soon were my merry feelings 
turned into sorrow, on beholding a mother 
weeping over the last remains of an only child* 
My heart was touched. I sobbed aloud with 
the mourners. My sister, mortified with me, 
(many of our school-mates being with us) soon 
took me home, using every effort to quiet me ; 
saying c it was only a little negro baby ; the 
mother did not care about it.' But the sorrow 
of the mother was so impressed on my mind, 
that it was not soon to be forgotten. The 
forepart of the night was passed without sleep. 
I petitioned my heavenly Father to be with 
the poor mother and to comfort her ; and I 
asked of him that if I lived to grow up to be a 
woman I might go and visit poor mothers 
who had lost their babies, and try to console 
them. The feeling which then clothed my 
mind was precious, and remained to be cher- 
ished towards those who were sick and fee- 
ble. 

Perhaps two years after this circumstance, 



54 

a poor woman living in our neighbourhood, who 
had lost her husband, had a young infant very 
sick. When I heard of it, the same desire pre- 
vailed which was felt in the case of the co- 
loured woman. I asked my mother to let me 
go and help nurse it, and she consented. I 
went, and found the poor little one in a fit. 
The mother being sick, gave it to me, and 
I nursed it until it died in my lap. I sat some 
time holding it, for I knew not how to tell the 
mother, as she was already overwhelmed with 
grief. — My sympathy was excited and my 
heart tendered. I went to her bed-side, and 
pointed to the cradle where I had laid it. The 
mother soon read the truth, and her sorrow 
was great. Another child lay ill on the bed 
at the same time. The scene was impressive. 
Oh ! how I wished to see the poor woman wil- 
ling to let her babe go ! I thought, if she 
would only be still and quiet, surely her hea- 
venly Father would comfort her, and I wanted 
to tell her so ; but then I was only a child. 
So T left her comfortless and ran home for my 
mother, who came to her assistance. 

These simple circumstances in my childhood 
show that Divine Love operates upon, and in- 



55 

fluences the youthful mind. If it be yielded to, 
it will prove a preservative through life. But 
on the other hand, should there be a disposi- 
tion to turn from it, how rough is our path- 
way made ! I know this to be so ; having re- 
belled again and again. Yes; I turned away 
from my inward Guide ; I chose my own way, 
for a time, according to my own will. But 
through all, my heavenly Father followed me, 
reproving for every misstep. He also set be- 
fore me that which was good ; he showed me 
the beauty of holiness, and gave me to see, 
that to walk in the paths thereof was peace 
and joy; but that if an evil course was persist- 
ed in, all would be sorrow and pain. I suf- 
fered much, before I again yielded to his bles- 
sed government. Then was he ready to aid 
me in overcoming evil; filling my heart with 
love, and teaching me his divine attributes of 
tenderness, sympathy and kindness toward 
others/' 

Philadelphia, 1843. 

The circumstances mentioned in the prece- 
ding account, show that so soon as the mind 
began to unfold to the perception of good and 



56 

evil presentations,, so soon was the Divine 
Power felt to be round about* checking for 
every wrong thing, and giving peace for every 
right action. No doubt, when this child first 
retired from her brothers and sisters to seek 
some quiet place, to know why she felt such 
heaviness of heart, her heavenly Guide was 
near, permitting her to realize the excellency 
of silently waiting upon him for instruction- 

She found it was good, sometimes to retire 
from apparently innocent amusements into the 
quiet,, where she might more clearly discern 
the spirit-voice ; even as little Samuel heard it, 
though he knew not who it was that thus com- 
muned with him. 

How much happier would be the days of 
childhood, if the young mind would but listen 
to its Divine Instructor ! However small or 
gentle his intimations may be, if taken heed to,, 
surely they would preserve from the many 
temptations which may be presented. 

It was in seasons when the mind of this 
child was drawn from all outward things, to 
hold communion with her heavenly Father, 
that she perceived the incomes of his love 2 and 



57 

felt it tendering her spirit, and leading her to 
feel with the afflicted. 

Here again, we see displayed the goodness: 
of Almighty power and mercy, in unfolding 
his gifts of tenderness and sympathy. Even 
young children may soon learn, under their 
influence, how to weep w T ith those who 
weep, and how r to rejoice with those who re- 
joice. 



JOB SCOTT'S 
Recollections and Reflections on the operations 
of the Divine Principle in his mind in 
early life. Extracted from his Journal. 

I was born, according to the best account I 
could obtain, on the eighteenth day of the tenth 
month, 1751 — in the tow T nship of North Prov- 
idence, in the state of Rhode Island, in New 
England. My parents' names were John and 
Lydia Scott ; who were accounted honest peo- 
ple, though my father made but little profes- 
sion of religion. My mother was more zea- 
lous, and attended Friends' meetings, when she 



58 

conveniently could, taking me divers times 
with her, and I think a few times another or 
two of the children, though we were all 
young ; for I, being the eldest, was but ten 
years old when she died. I can well remem- 
ber the serious impressions and contemplations 
which, at that early period of life, attended 
ray mind, as I sat in meeting with her, and on 
my way home. I even had longing desires to 
serve God, as Abraham, Isaac and Jacob did, 
and others that I read or heard of. 

My mother endeavoured much to restrain us 
from being in the company of rude and vicious 
children, and would sometimes call us together 
and labor to have us sit in silence with her, 
which we did. Knowing the enjoyments and 
benefits of true inward, christian silence and 
waiting upon God, she was desirous that w T e, 
her children might, in our tender years, be 
made acquainted with at least some secret 
touches of that Divine favour, which, 1 doubt 
not, she experienced in such seasons of re- 
tirement — and though I understood but little 
about it then, I have since had reason to be- 
lieve, it was a real advantage to me. 



59 

I am fully persuaded of the great usefulness 
to children and others, resulting from frequent 
silent waiting on the Lord. I have seen live- 
ly and convincing evidences of it, even in chil- 
dren very young in years ; and fully believe 
the impressions of Divine Goodness have been 
such to their minds at some such seasons, even 
when there has not been a word uttered vocal- 
ly, as have lastingly remained and powerfully 
tended to beget the true fear and love of God 
in their young and tender hearts. An early ac- 
quaintance with, and relish of Divine things, is 
best learned, and most livingly and experimen- 
tally sealed upon the soul, in a state of silent 
introversion of mind. 

I know some men argue, that all we know 
about good or evil is by education, tuition, or 
what we imbibe or receive from others ; but 
my own experience, and I doubt not the expe- 
rience of thousands, can testify against the fal- 
lacy of this argument. 

Thus, in very early life, I was made feeling- 
ly sensible that certain thoughts and wishes in 
my own mind, which no mortal else ever knew 
any thing about, and concerning which I never 
had any human caution, counsel, or instruction 



60 

whatever, were of corrupt and evil tendency* 
And I have a full belief, that in every quarter 
of the globe, children at an early age have 
good and evil set before them, by the shinings 
of the light of Christ in their hearts, with 
clearness and evidence sufficient to show them 
their duty, if they honestly attend to it. 

Almost as early as I can recollect any thing, 
I can well remember the Lord's secret work- 
ings in my heart, by his grace or holy Spirit ; 
very sensibly bringing me under condemnation 
for my evil thoughts and actions, rudeness and 
bad words, (though not frequent in the use 
of them,) disobedience to parents, inwardly 
washing in moments of anger, some evil to such 
as offended me ; and such like childish and 
corrupt dispositions and practices which, over 
and beyond all outward instructions, I was 
made sensible were evil. I am satisfied, if the 
teachings of men were never to thwart the 
teachings of the holy Spirit, many things 
would fix on the minds of children to be evils, 
which they are instructed and persuaded to 
think are innocent and commendable. 

In regard to my own early acquaintance 
with the holy Spirit's operation, though I then 



61 

knew not what it was, I have now no more 
doubt about it, than I have about the existence 
and omnipresence of God, It is sealed upon 
my heart with much clearness and certainty, 
that it is the Spirit of the living God, and that 
it visits, woos, invites and strives with all. — 
Yea, so quick and powerful, so discerning of 
the thoughts and intents of the heart, so just 
and distinguishing in approving or condemn- 
ing them, according as they are good or bad, 
is this Spirit, Word and Witness in man, that 
not only without the aid of human injunction 
or information, but in direct dissent from and 
disapprobation of the sentiments, advice, and 
pressing invitations of my play-mates, and 
those much older than myself, who confidently 
declared to me that such and such things were 
innocent, and that nobody thought them wick- 
ed but myself, — the testimony of truth would 
and did arise and live in my heart when very 
young, through the shining of Divine light or 
the influence of the holy Spirit, showing me 
that those things were evil, were wicked : and 
I thought, notwithstanding all those young 
persons could say to the contrary, all good 
people would think as I did. 



62 

At about six or seven years of age, the in- 
ward principle, which is the light and power 
of God, lovingly operative upon the soul, so 
wrought and shone, and moved within me, as 
to give me a sure and certain sense of right 
and wrong, good and evil, in divers particulars* 
and in some things altogether independent of 
human information. 

Before I was ten years old, the workings of 
Truth grew so powerful in my mind at times* 
that I took up several resolutions to amend my 
ways; though I was not one of the most vi- 
cious of my years, yet enough so to be made 
sensible of the Lord's controversy with me, on 
account of the evil of my ways. 

My mind became exceedingly disquieted, 
when I went contrary to Divine manifestation. 
If I had steadily obeyed the Truth, as inward- 
ly manifested ; if I had attended singly and 
faithfully to this Divine Monitor, my portion 
would have been peace, my cup, a cup of con- 
solation, and I might have rejoiced : whereas, 
through inattention and disobedience, I have 
had to mourn and weep ; for, as I grew to fif- 
teen years and upwards, in violation o clear in- 
ward convictions, in opposition to the dictates of 



63 

the Holy Spirit, I indulged in many wrong 
things; 

Oh! that children would be careful in their 
very early years, to mind the reproofs of in- 
struction in their own breasts. They are 
known to be " the way of life." 



A TREE 
a child's place of worship. 

The subject of the following memoir lived in 
the state of Delaware. Her parents were mem- 
bers of the society of Friends, and were con- 
cerned for the good of their children ; and as 
they walked consistently with their profession, 
the examples or influence by which she was 
surrounded, w T as helpful to the growth of the 
good seed in her infant mind. 

Very early in life (being only five years old) 
her attention was arrested by the secret oper- 
ations of the Divine Witness. This seemed to 
have been brought about by her being deprived 
by death of several near relatives. She said, 



64 

in reference to this period, "Being much affect- 
ed at losing a beloved grandmother, I one 
morning took my little chair out to a tree that 
stood behind the house, where no one could 
see me; sitting down, I leaned my head against 
the trunk and gave way freely to my feelings. 
After a little while, I felt peaceful and quiet, 
and then was I first made sensible of a secret 
something, operating in me as a teacher. I 
was often passionate, and easily excited to the 
indulgence of angry feelings. As I thus sat 
under the tree, sorrowing for the loss of my 
aged relative, this fault was brought to my 
view, and an impression was received that if I 
did not strive against my trying disposition, 
all my friends would be taken away from me, 
and I would be left alone in the world. This 
afflicted me greatly, and I promised I would 
try and not get angry. Those living in the 
family would often worry me, being the young- 
er. On such occasions, and indeed many times 
in the day, I would go out under my tree, to 
meet with, I knew not what, but a something 
that strengthened me to be good. It was to 
my then infant mind, a hallowed spot, for there 
I loved to be still — I was gathered into a quiet 



65 

peaceful state, waiting for the teaching of the 
good Spirit. Often was I here met with, and 
received instruction and strength to overcome 
my trying temper. So precious to me were 
the feelings when sitting under this tree, that 
w T hen I went from home, and had to mingle 
with other children, I was afraid lest I should 
be drawn out of this quiet state. This fear 
led me to seek unto my heavenly Guide and 
ask him to preserve me during the visit. 

When about ten years old, a minister travel- 
ling through our neighborhood, being at meet- 
ing, used the language * covenant-making and 
covenant-keeping God. 5 It came home to my 
infant mind, and I found that this was the 
Power that had been operating in me, and 
with which I had been engaged in covenant 
morning and evening, and many times in the 
day, though I had found no expression that 
would convey the meaning. 

About this time, mingling much at school 
with children who were not Friends, I wanted 
to use compliments as they did, and concluded I 
would do so. Going to the shoemaker's for 
my mother's shoes, I asked if Mrs — ~-'s shoes 
were done. On thus speaking,. I was so clear-* 



66 

ly shown that this was a departure from sim* 
plicity of language, that I never again deviated 
in this respect, from what I believed right for 
me. 

About my twelfth year, when at meeting 
sitting with the rest of the school children, I 
was impressed with the necessity of calling the 
attention of the scholars to the death of one of 
our little playmates. 

What I had to say, was as plain before me 
as though it were written in a book, and at one 
time I was almost impelled upon my feet, by 
the force of the feeling which rested upon me. 
But I thought that as I was a child, I never 
could speak before all the meeting ; so I conclu- 
ded as soon as meeting broke, I would write 
down what was then so plain to me ; but when 
I went to do so, all remembrance of the lan- 
guage to be used was gone, and I could not recol- 
lect one word. Then I saw clearly that it 
ought to have been given to the children, when 
it was given to me for them* 

Thus the good Hand led me along through 
the paths of childhood; and having now at- 
tained the meridian of life, I can in looking 
back bear this testimony, that had I at all 



67 

times simply yielded to its guidance, I should 
have escaped much of the suffering which I 
have experienced. " 



NARRATIVE. 



The following may be interesting to the read- 
ers of this volume, and be a means of inciting 
them to give heed to the wishes of concerned 
parents. 

8th mo. 1843. 
My Beloved Friend. — In thinking of the 
work thou art about to publish, I have felt de- 
sirous it may contain something to encourage 
children to regard the tender scruples of pa- 
rents ; whether they consider them the effects 
of education, or derived from the higher source 
of principle. If they exist, they should claim 
due respect ; and I believe it would be attended 
with a reward far greater than many imagine. 
I feel that I can speak of this with confidence. 
When quite young, my mother observed to 
me one day while arranging my hair, that she 
wished I was willing to do without those side- 



68 

tombs. I made no reply* but concluded as 
there were so few superfluities in which I in- 
dulged, I might be allowed this. And more 
especially as I was going to attend a wedding 
in a short time, I thought I would like to ap- 
pear more like my associates, than I should 
with my hair straight ; and as she merely 
wished I was willing to do without them, I 
thought I woujd retain them till after that. 
But duty whispered, "Is the pleasure derived 
from this indulgence, equal to that of making 
a mother's heart glad by a compliance with 
her wish?" I thought it foolish that so trifling 
a matter should occasion any conflict, as I had 
not felt it wrong myself. But I could not for- 
get it — so to get rid of my uncomfortable feel- 
ings, in a few days I laid the combs aside. 

I would if possible convey to thee an idea 
of the sweet peace which accompanied this 
very simple sacrifice of my own will, to the 
views of an affectionate mother. On several 
other similar occasions, I have been humbled 
under a sense of the kindness and love of our 
heavenly Father, in furnishing so clear an evi- 
dence of his approbation for these little dedica- 
tions to parental care and anxiety. I there- 



69 

fore feel desirous to encourage all my dear 
young friends to take heed and listen to the 
gentle persuasions and restraints of concerned 
parents, believing a blessing would attend it 
through life, and that it would greatly facili- 
tate their search after true happiness. 

In all the reminiscences of childhood, there is 
nothing affords me purer delight, than the sub- 
mission to my parents' scruples in these small 
matters. I sincerely hope thou may'st meet with 
something calculated to arrest the attention and 
enforce this, in my view, important duty. 

Thy Friend. 



70 



SOME ACCOUNT 

OFTHE EARLY LIFE OF 

ELISHA KIRK. 

It appears by a brief memorandum in his 
own hand-writing, that so early as the fifth 
year of his age, his mind was susceptible of 
"the reproofs of instruction. " On one occasion, 
having been guilty of disobedience to his fa- 
ther, he says, " Afterwards, walking out 
alone, I was led into a state of deep thoughtful- 
ness about my situation, attended with an anx- 
ious desire that I might so live in future, as to 
obtain a state of happiness, when time to me 
should be no more ; being at that time convinc- 
ed that I could not inherit such a state with- 
out obedience to my parents, even though in 
the cross to my own inclinations." 

Soon after this event he was put to school, 
where his conduct gave evidence that the in- 
struction received under his former exercises, 
was not easily forgotten ; for he tells us, that, 
u having been thus early convinced of the ne- 
cessity of obedience and order, I don't recol- 



71 

lect that 1 ever misbehaved, so as to require a 
stroke or frown from my teacher.' 9 While the 
other children were engaged in plays, he would 
often retire from their company, and walk 
alone in some secluded situation. 

We are not, however, to conclude, from these 
early evidences of religious concern, that he 
was not subject to the temptations incident to the 
season of childhood. It is manifest from his 
own account, that he delighted in social plea- 
sures, and sometimes gratified his inclination at 
the expense of his peace. On one occasion, 
several lads, his relations, paid the family a vi- 
sit on first-day ; but, his parents being from 
home, they spent the afternoon in sport and 
play, contrary to his sense of propriety at that 
time. In the evening, being alone, his mind 
was filled with remorse and sorrow T ; and, in 
this distress, he resolved to be more careful in 
future. He had also to contend with the pas- 
sions of anger and resentment ; but, conscious 
of his weakness, he was led to seek the Lord 
for strength to overcome these passions ; and 
he did not seek in vain — for he says : " In 
time I witnessed an overcoming ; and as I con- 
tinued fervent in spirit, I often experienced my 



72 

peace to flow as a river of comfort, filling my 
whole heart. 5 ' 

When about his sixteenth year, he spent 
much of his leisure time in the perusal of re- 
ligious books. Speaking of this kind of read- 
ing, he says, " It afforded me satisfaction and 
instruction in the way I had been for some 
time desirous to walk ; for I had not before 
known that there w T as any religious society 
on earth, who enjoyed the same inward 
communion of spirit with God, that I had at 
times partaken of." In this situation, his soul 
was drawn diligently to seek for strength from 
the only Fountain that can " soothe the life of 
man," and qualify him to meet every viscisi- 
tude w T ith fortitude and composure. 

When we take a view of the state of this 
estimable youth at this time, enjoying the pure 
and exalted happiness of a life early devoted to 
that which is good, and compare it with a 
mind rebelling against the known will of its hea- 
venly Parent, how striking is the contrast ! 



73 



Extracted from the " Annual Monitor' ' for 1843. 
OBITUARY NOTICE OF CHARLES PARRY, 

AGED TEN YEARS, SON OF CHARLES AND SARAH 
PARRY, OF ROCHDALE. 

This dear child was early instructed in the 
school of Christ; and by yielding obedience to 
the manifestations of Divine Grace, was, we 
doubt not, prepared for a mansion in Heaven ; 
verifying in his experience the scripture pro- 
mise, " They that seek me early shall find 
me." 

He evinced much tenderness of conscience ; 
feeling sorrow for his sins, and desiring forgive- 
ness when he had done any wrong thing, not 
only of his earthly parents, but of his heaven- 
ly Father also. 

He was fond of reading the Bible and other 
religious books ; and often made very perti- 
nent observations upon them. 

During his illness he frequently requested his 
mother to pray for him ; and, on one occasion, 
when he was reminded that he must endeavour 

D 



74 

to pray for himself, he replied, " Yes ; I do 
pray for myself every night, and many times 
in the night." Throughout his sufferings, he 
desired to be preserved in patience ; and ex- 
pressed his belief, that when released from the 
pains of mortality, Heaven would be his home. 



THE DIVINE WITNESS 

AS A PRESERVER FROM EVIL. 

In most of the memoirs in this book, and .in 
many others which I have read, there are feiults 
and errors mentioned, which conscience reprov- 
ed. This conscience or Divine Witness in 
man, will, if attended to, show what is evil and 
what is good. If we receive it as our moni- 
tor, we will feel its reproofs when we have 
done wrong ; and when we are innocent and 
sin not, our minds will be peaceful, which is the 
reward for good. This peaceful feeling was 
generally my attendant in early life. I heard 



the voice of instruction ; and as I was taught^ 
I tried to obev. When I was reproved, I tried 
to do better ; and I was so happy in being a 
good, kind, dutiful child, that I look back 
upon that period of my life and call it my 
" blessed childhood." 

The remembrance of the tender care of my 
parents, the love of my brothers and play-fel- 
lows, the kind regard of my school teachers, 
all assure me now, that I was then a good 
child. 

Yet, dear children who read this, do not 
think that I never did wrong ; for I loved to 
have my own w T ay, and "would get angry if I 
could not. I would cry and stamp w^ith my feet ; 
but I was told I must not be cross, but be gen- 
tle and obedient ; and as I loved those who 
were older, and who I thought knew better 
what was right and wrong than I did, I tried 
to do as I w r as bid ; and whenever I overcame 
my temper, I w r as made happy; and in time be- 
came more gentle and bidable. 

I was also very venturesome ; going into 
dangerous places, from off which, had I fallen, 
I might have been killed, or lamed for life, I 
knew this w r as not right, after it had been for- 



76 

bidden ; but I thought if my mother did not 
know it, there was no harm done. This was 
very wrong, and my dear mother punished me 
severely for my disobedience. But when I 
promised her I would do so no more, I remem- 
ber feeling a great love for her, and thinking 
it was right that she should make me obey her, 
though I did not see any harm in thus ventur- 
ing. But when I grew older I understood it 
better. 

About the seventh year of my age, an extreme 
illness which my father suffered, was an occasion 
of deep instruction to me. There appeared to 
those nursing him but little prospect of his recov- 
ery. One night, as my brothers and I were 
going to bed, we were called by our mother 
into his sick room, and taken to his bed-side to 
look at him. He did not see us, being too ill 
to notice any thing. Though I scarcely knew 
what death was, I felt a fear, (caused by see- 
ing my mother weeping,) that he was about to 
be taken away from us. I went to my room 
and my bed ; and on lying down, an earnest 
petition was offered unto my heavenly Father, 
that He would not take my father away from 
my mother, and from us children. So earnest 



77 

was the desire that, in the fulness of my heart, 
T offered my life for my father's. While in this 
state of troubled excitement, a light seemed to 
break in upon my mind, and peace spread over 
it ; and a still small voice, or the Divine Wit- 
ness which has been mentioned before, bade me 
be still and hearken. As I heeded this intima- 
tion, I received the impression that the prayer 
of my -childhood was heard ; — that my father 
would not be taken from us ; and that in re- 
turn for this favour, I was called to be obedi- 
ent to the Divine law, as I would from time 
to time feel it to operate in my own mind. 

On going down stairs next morning, I was 
told my father had changed during the night, 
and was better. I remembered my prayer 
and the attendant impressions. I did not speak 
to any one of what had impressed me, but ful- 
ly believed I was called to greater purity of 
conduct and conversation than other children. 

This feeling continued through the remain- 
der of my childhood, and made me very careful 
and guarded in my behaviour. I sought daily 
to hear the Divine voice in my own mind, and 
I listened to its teachings. In the morning, I 
commended myself to its guidance. In the even- 



78 

ing when I went to rest, I sought after it, and 
loved to feel that I had it for a caretaker thro* 
the night. Through this attention to my in- 
ward Teacher, I believe I led a very innocent 
life. It kept me from giving way to anger, 
and from doing any thing in secret that I 
thought my parents would not approve, could 
they see me. 

One day, when my dear mother was ma- 
king me a new dress, she said something about 
the trouble of making little girls' clothing, as 
she was then doing, sewing ruffles on the 
sleeves, &c. " Well," said her little daugh- 
ter, " mother, why does thee take the trou- 
ble ?" " Oh !" she answered, " from pride." 
"Pride!" said the daughter. " Mother, does 
thee not know, that pride goeth before destruc- 
tion, and a lofty spirit before a fall ?" My mo- 
ther stopped, picked off the ruffle she had al- 
ready sewed on, and from that time had her 
little girl dressed in greater simplicity. 

During these days of my childhood, my heart 
was full of innocent affection ; and as I daily 
tried to please my heavenly and earthly parents, 
it is no wonder that I was a happy child, and 
that mine was a blessed childhood. 



79 



A SHORT ACCOUNT 

OF ABRAHAM LOWER, OF PHILADELPHIA. 

" A good boy generally makes a good man. 55 
This saying was exemplified in the life of Abra- 
ham Lower, who became a member and an 
approved minister of the society of Friends. — 
He died in 1841, aged sixty-four years. 

It would be well for children to understand 
what goodness is. It consists in obedience, sub- 
mission, attention to duties, speaking the truth, 
kindness and love one to another, and highest of 
all, love to the universal Parent. If then a 
little child early learns to obey, to love and to 
be kind to all, and to attend to its little duties, 
we may reasonably indulge the belief that this 
good boy or girl will be of the same character 
when arrived at mature age. Some children 
are, in very early life, taught to do that which 
is right. They have kind parents or friends 
who teach them to be good, and to walk in the 
right way. But there are others, who are 
poor, destitute and neglected, and who, if they 



80 

could speak that which they sometimes feel, 
would say, there is none to show us any good, 
no, not one. 

Such was the subject of this brief memoir. 
He w r as a poor child, who had never known a 
father's love nor a father's care. His mother's 
occupations were such, that she could not give 
him that attention he needed ; and at the ten- 
der age of five or six years, he lived among 
strangers as a little errand-boy. 

In his eleventh year, he was apprenticed to 
a cabinet-maker. " Here," said he to the 
writer of this, " I met with many hard things." 
His master was an intemperate man ; his mis- 
tress very severe. He was harshly used, Dly 
clothed, and not well fed. But he tried to do 
right, — to do as he was bid ; yet often felt his 
desolate condition. 

One day, after having for some hours car- 
ried water many squares for washing, he stay- 
ed longer than his mistress thought proper. She 
reproved him severely for so doing, and his 
master ordered him out of the house, forbid* 
ding his return. " I wandered about," said 
he, " all day ; part of the time playing with 
other boys in the street, and when night came, 



81 

I crept (without food) under a bench, in the 
porch of my master's house, where I laid until 
morning. I awoke early, and stood by the 
post of the porch, looking toward the house. 
I had no home, no place to go to. What was 
I to do ? There was no one to care for me. — - 
After having remained there for some time, en- 
gaged in these sorrowful reflections, my mas- 
ter opened the door. He looked at me, and 
then said, 'Abe, get the basket and come with 
me to market/ My heart beat with joy at 
the command. Ah ! how quickly I went, and 
how gladly did I obey." Such w T as his com- 
ment, when a man, on this unfeeling and cruel 
usage. 

Poor child ! how great must have been the 
feeling of destitution, and the sufferings of the 
past day and night,, to have thus caused his lit- 
tle heart to beat with joy at the prospect of be- 
ing again admitted to such a home ! Let the 
children who read this, compare their own sit- 
uations with his, and number their blessings. 

On the first-day of the week, his master 
would occasionally send frm to meeting. — 
Though he loved to go, he was ashamed to be 
seen there in the day-time, because he was rag- 



82 

gcd and not unfrequently without shoes, or 
having on his master's old ones. He would 
therefore wander into the country to escape 
observation ; but when evening came, he w r ould 
go quietly into the Market-street meeting-house, 
where evening meetings were then held, and 
sit down in some obscure corner, often under 
the stairs. Here, amid all his poverty and 
hardships, he was favoured with visitations of 
Divine love, adapted to his lonely and destitute 
situation, so that he could often say, " I am 
comforted." Thus realizing the truth of the 
scripture declaration, " When my father and 
my mother forsake me, then the Lord will 
take me up. 5 ' For it was none other than he, 
the Eternal One, who, in these seasons of trial, 
looked upon this lone desolate boy, and by the 
secret influences of his own good Spirit, led 
him to look unto him, to see what w T as good 
and acceptable, and what was evil and to be 
avoided. 

O blessed Guide and Director ! O divine 
Consoler ! how didst thou speak peace to his 
soul ! How didst thou inwardly teach him of 
thy law, and show him of thy love, until he 
could take up the impressive language, " J am 



83 

comforted /"—comforted by the inflowings of 
Divine love and light, although as to the out- 
ward, all was gloomy and trying — he being a 
poor, friendless, oppressed child, with no one 
to care for him. 

In the year 1793, his master died of the 
yellow fever, and he had to seek another 
home. When about sixteen, he apprenticed 
himself to another master. In his new home, 
he knew for the first time what it w T as to re- 
ceive kindnesses. He often said, "the change 
was like going from a prison to a palace." — 
The kind attentions and fatherly care bestow T ed 
upon him by the worthy Friend to -whom he 
had apprenticed himself, and the tenderness of 
his excellent wife, afresh stimulated him to do 
his duty faithfully. And as he continued 
watchfully attentive to his heavenly Guide, 
standing open to receive those visitations of 
his love and light w 7 hich ministered to him in 
his very low estate, when a child, and which 
were mercifully renewed time after time, he 
was so preserved that now, when his outward 
comforts were abundantly increased, his hu- 
mility and innocency were conspicuous in his 



84 

daily walking, and he witnessed an increase in 
heavenly treasures. 

While yet an apprentice, he came forth as a 
minister, bearing public testimony to the " ef- 
ficacy of the holy principle of light and truth 
placed in the heart of man," even that power 
which, through its secret operations, had en- 
abled him to overcome much evil, and which, 
if obeyed, would redeem from all iniquity. 

About this time, he felt a concern to go with 
some Friends, who were about visiting an In- 
dian settlement. Such was his stability, that 
although young in years, he was allowed to 
do so, and was furnished with a testimony of 
the approval of Friends in this undertaking. 

This testimony spoke of him as " a young 
man who, by his solid religious deportment, 
would hold up a good example. 5 ' He spent 
some time with Friends there, and used his 
knowledge of cabinet-making for their advan- 
tage and comfort, by making tables, bedsteads, 
&c. for their use. 

A Friend who was one of Abraham's youth- 
ful companions, relates a circumstance which 
shows his watchful frame of mind, and atten- 
tion to the intimations of the inward Monitor. 



85 

He thus speaks of it : "Abraham preached his 
first sermon at school. During intermission, 
some of the boys were planning an amusement, 
which being counter to the wishes or judgment 
of their friends, was to be enjoyed clandestine- 
ly. Abraham was observed to keep very still 
for awhile, then said with seriousness, "When 
sinners entice thee, consent thou not." The 
Friend does not say, what effect this monition] 
had on the boys w T ho were about to enter upon 
forbidden ground, but doubtless the effect on 
his own mind, of thus yielding to an impression 
of good, was preserving. 

In this short account of Abraham Lower, a 
strong proof is furnished of the universality of 
Divine Grace, early manifested to children. 

Abraham was an orphan, a neglected out- 
cast, whose outward opportunity of learning 
any good was chiefly in the streets, yet his 
heavenly Father was mindful of him. 

The Divine principle of light and love was 
placed in his heart, and it inclined him to good- 
ness. As he attended to it, it taught him to 
be a good boy, even though he had a bad mas- 



86 

ter and mistress, who were cruel and unkind 
to him. 

See him in Market street evening meeting, 
ragged, barefoot, seated behind the door, no 
friend or caretaker, yet thinking of his heaven- 
ly Parent, and secretly praying nnto him. See 
his little heart comforted with the feeling of 
something good, and his mind peaceful in the 
consciousness of trying to be a good boy. 

As he patiently and faithfully endured the 
hardships of his first apprenticeship, the way 
was opened for his release ; and in his second 
master and mistress he found w r hat he had not 
before known, the cordial of human kindness 
and parental care. Surely the Lord made way 
for him in the hearts and affections of his 
friends, and he experienced the truth of the 
saying, that " to be good is to be happy." 

Let others do so likewise, and Heaven will 
be their friend and their sure reward — their 
lives will be useful and their end peace. 



87 



NARRATIVE. 

ILLUSTRATING THE BENEFIT OF ATTENDING 
TO RELIGIOUS SCRUPLES AND CONVICTIONS. 

The impressions of good, received during 
childhood, are frequent, and they often produce 
very salutary influences, affecting our future 
actions, as we advance to maturer years. It 
is in the days of our innocency that our hea- 
venly Father sows his good seed. Happy for 
us if we neglect not these evidences of his ten- 
der care and regard, but receive them as his 
choicest gifts to be occupied to his glory. 

I remember w T ell some of these early impres- 
sions ; they are so strongly fixed upon my mind 
that time cannot obliterate them. They were 
lessons deeply instructive then, in my childhood 
and my youth: and although they were intend- 
ed and suited for that day, yet I value them 
none the less now; for they are still doing their 
appointed office of promoting watchfulness and 
care. 

The first intimation of my heavenly Fa- 
ther's regard, occurred when perhaps not 



more than three years of age. The circum- 
stance maybe considered trifling, but as it has 
ever been held important by myself, I will re- 
late it. I was playing in company with a bro- 
ther older than myself, when a large grasshopper 
attracted my attention. The insect appeared 
extraordinary, and rather alarmed me. In or- 
der partly to express my fears, and the wonder 
with which its size had impressed my mind, I 
added, in a call to my brother to come and view 
it, a word which then was and now is, consid- 
ered profane. This word I suppose I must 
have heard used by other children ; but it ap- 
pears that I knew it was wrong, or it was then 
first made known to me to be so ; for I immedi- 
ately felt convicted for using it, and w T as much 
troubled in mind during the day. 

Although my brother had noticed my expres- 
sion, yet he said nothing to me about it. In 
the evening when our beloved eldest sister was 
putting us to bed, my brother informed her 
that I had spoken a naughty word that day. — 
My heart being full, I immediately burst into 
a flood of tears, confessing my fault, with a 
promise to be more careful in future. My sis- 
ter, who then acted the part of a mother, (for 



our mother had been taken from us perhaps 
a year before,) gently reproved me, and coun- 
selled me sweetly in relation to my future con- 
duct. This confession and burst of grief great- 
ly soothed my mind, and I felt myself again at 
peace, and could go quietly to sleep. 

Small as this circumstance may seem, yet I 
look upon the frequent remembrance of it, as 
one of the safeguards of my childhood and my 
youth. Living at that time in what might be 
ailed the suburbs of the city, we were sur- 
rounded by a population, not remarkably care- 
ful in relation to the manners of their children, 
who in general were rude and uncultivated, 
and many of them addicted to the use of very 
improper language. With some of these chil- 
dren I was frequently in company ; yet the 
lesson I had received w T as never forgotten ; and 
the utterance of profane words by any of them 
would cause a shudder of horror to run thro' 
me. 

During all my boyhood, the impression re- 
mained unabated, and proved a great preserva- 
tion ; causing me frequently to leave associa- 
ting with lads who indulged in such gross im- 
piety. 



90 

And now, having passed the middle age of 
life, and having mingled among many people 
and in many scenes, the same horror covers my 
mind on occasions of hearing profane lan- 
guage ; the feeling appears unabated, and I 
presume will continue. 

The recurrence of these emotions often leads 
me to admire the goodness of my heavenly Fa- 
ther, in thus condescending to instruct me in 
my almost infancy ; pointing out a path to 
walk in through life, — a path of purity, of 
safety, and of peace. Blessed be his name. — 
He remembers the little children, He loves to 
bless them, for of such is his kingdom. 

He frequently comforted me in my early 
youth ; teaching me often of his holy will, 
and giving me to understand that that will 
must be accomplished to insure my peace. I 
well remember, on one occasion, when about 
seven or eight years of age, as I was sitting 
by myself, it was clearly opened to my under- 
standing that my heavenly Father would at 
some future time require of me great dedica- 
tion of heart ; and that I would have to make 
known of his great goodness and love to the 
people, in the manner that I had heard many 



91 



valued friends declare in our meetings, to which 
my father was alw T ays careful to take me. 

The idea of thus appearing, seemed more 
than I could bear ; but the impression was at- 
tended with a sense, that when it would be re- 
quired of me to enter upon this work, my 
strength would be amply sufficient. 

This little and somewhat singular intimation 
was often brought into remembrance during 
the days of my youth, and led me very fre- 
quently into much serious reflection. 

I loved to attend our religious meetings as 
a general thing ; although sometimes 1 would 
absent myself, even without the knowledge of 
my father ; but whenever I did so, the rebuke of 
love followed me. About this time, an anec- 
dote was related by Thomas Scattergood, in 
the North meeting-house, Philadelphia, in 
one of his communications, which was often a 
subject for reflection, and I believe it tended to 
instruction, and to fasten upon my mind the ne- 
cessity of maintaining a watchful care, as to 
the fulfilment of this duty. He remarked on 
the occasion referred to, M that he knew a man 
who had large experience in the way of Truth 
and salvation, w-ho had learned many lessons 



92 

in the school of Christ, and had, in good «*<>*- 
sure, lived up to that in which he had been in- 
structed. In his usual emphatic manner, he 
closed this part of the view of his condition 
by saying, he well knew what were " the re- 
proofs of instruction, which are the way of 
life." 

'" Having known so much, (he went on to 
say) this individual concluded in an hour of 
temptation, that no further necessity existed for 
him to attend meetings, — that he had all within 
him that was requisite for his future guidance, 
and which would necessarily lead on to peace. 
But the result did not prove his anticipations ; 
instead of advancing, he went retrograde, until 
finally he fell, and became an enemy to the 
cause which he once loved." 

This anecdote, with the peculiar language 
which I then did not understand, — that " the 
reproofs of instruction are the way of life," 
was a subject that frequently occupied my 
thoughts. I had a strong desire to know what 
these reproofs were ; — and it was made clear 
to me, that the instruction of Truth always 
ministered reproof for disobedience ; and when, 
in an unguarded moment, we wandered from 



93 

the true path, it called us back ; and in that 
sense it became to us a " way of life." I 
thought I could then see how this individual 
had fallen. Attention to religious meetings 
Avas an incumbent duty ; and therefore the first 
act he did in absenting himself, was one of dis- 
obedience. He was going counter to the very 
" reproofs" which he had professed to value 
so much ; and every step he now took led him 
out farther from " the way of life." 

The impression then made upon my mind by 
the recital of this circumstance, was of much 
use to me during my youth ; and in later life it 
often tended to incite me to renewed diligence 
and care, in the fulfilment of the important 
duty of public social worship. 

When about fourteen years of age, the 
thought of being considered singular by my 
companions, in wearing a plain dress, became 
exceedingly unpleasant, and I requested my fa- 
ther to permit me to change my coat, in con- 
formity to the fashion of those not of our So- 
ciety. We reasoned the subject together 
on several occasions ; he always express- 
ing his dissatisfaction at the course I pro- 
posed : but finally my importunities prevail- 



94 

ed, and I obtained his consent to act as I 
thought best. The coat was made and worn ; 
but always worn with dissatisfaction and loss 
of comfort. The impression became sealed 
upon my mind, that in this act I had dishonor- 
ed my beloved parent ; and that my refusal to 
appear in a simple garb,which he himself wore, 
was a reflection upon his wisdom and course 
of life in this respect ; and that I considered 
the principles upon which he had based his own 
actions m thus appearing before the world,were 
fallacious and unworthy my regard . Such reflec- 
tions were frequent and painful to me, as I did 
not wish to appear in opposition to a beloved 
parent. 

The next coat I had made was in conformi- 
ty with the dress of Friends. When I first 
appeared in it before my father, I thought he 
looked somewhat sternly upon me ; which I at- 
tributed to his considering me as unsettled and 
vacillating. Yet I felt great peace and com- 
fort in thus returning and taking up the cross ; 
and I believe it was a great satisfaction to my 
dear parent. I have good reason, to believe, 
indeed I may say, I positively know, that the 
giving up to this intimation of duty, although 



95 

opened in the manner it was, proved through 
the course of my youth, a blessed preservation ; 
deterring me from associating with vain and 
unsuitable companions, and resorting to places 
of recreation and amusement, from whence I 
could scarcely have returned uncontaminated. 
About my fifteenth year, being then an ap- 
prentice, I had many serious thoughts in rela- 
tion to my want of care in using the plain lan- 
guage. In our workshop eight or ten young 
men were generally employed, — apprentices 
and journeymen, who were mostly Friends' 
children. The habit had become so general 
and fixed, that we seldom or never addressed 
each other in the plain language of Friends. — 
My mind becoming uneasy on the subject, I 
reflected upon it very seriously ; and, discov- 
ering from the force of the impression, that it 
was a concernment of no trifling nature, I en- 
deavoured to be found faithful to it, although 
much in the cross. My altered course was 
soon noticed, a though no remark was made 
calculated to wound my feelings. In a short 
time, however, much to my surprise and relief, 
I found my companions addressing me as I did 
them ; and, in a few months, no one in the 



96 

workshop, either journeyman or apprentice, 
thought of using any other language ; and this 
continued during the remainder of my appren* 
ticeship* 

How true it is, that to the dedicated mind 
hard things become easy, and bitter things 
sweet. I was greatly instructed by this cir- 
cumstance ; it having an effect to increase my 
faith and dependance upon an Arm of power, 
which I thought I could perceive was stretched 
out for my help. 



97 



SARAH GRUBB, 

Was the daughter of Mason and Hannah 
Lynes, and was born near London in 1773. — 
She received her education at Islington-road 
school, to whieh she was sent when about eight 
years of age. Respecting her early religious 
impressions she writes thus : — " At school I 
sought the Lord ; feeling his power in my 
heart, operating against evil. Yet I many 
times gave v/ay to corrupt inclinations, and for 
this I was brought under great condemnation, 
even so early as when nine years old ; so that 
I bemoaned my condition, and begged and pray- 
ed for a better state and a happier. 

I went on, sinning and repenting for years , 
still my love for good books increased, and also 
for good people. We had but few books ; the 
bible and one or two journals of Friends, are 

\ all that I can recollect reading : and really, I 
valued them as highly as I was capable of do- 

I ing, in this my childhood." 

About the fourteenth year of her age, she 
removed to reside with our late friend, Sarah 

E 



Grubb,wife of Robert Grubb, at Anner Mills ; 
and, being under the influence of the humbling 
and tendering power of Truth, she was an in- 
structive example in the family. 

In the seventeenth year of her age, after 
passing through much humiliating conflict and 
baptism of spirit, she came forth in the minis- 
try. In reference to this subject, she wrote as 
follows : — " With respect to my first appear- 
ances, as one called to speak in the high and 
holy name of the Lord, they were in great 
fear, and under the feeling that my natural incli- 
nation would not lead me into such exposure ; 
for I shrank from it exceedingly ; and often 
have I hesitated, and felt such a reluctance to 
it, that I have suffered the meeting to break 
up without my having made the sacrifice : yea, 
when the Word of life, in a few words, was 
like a fire within me. Great has been my 
mourning for these omissions of duty. Al- 
though but seventeen when I first gave utter- 
ance publicly to a sentence or two, I had 
opened my mouth in private many months 
previously, under the constraining influence of 
the spirit of Truth, without a shadow of doubt 
that it was indeed required of me, poor child 



99 

as I was. I had sweet consolation in coming 
into obedience ; and after a while was sur- 
prised to find, that although I stood up in 
meeting, expecting only to utter a little mat- 
ter that presented, more passed through me, I 
scarcely knew how." 

Thus, by obedience to the gradual unfoldings 
of the Divine will, was our dear friend made 
an able minister of the gospel of life and salva- 
tion ; being a faithful labourer in the Lord's 
vineyard, and remarkably qualified for service 
therein. 



EXTRACT 

FROM THE c MEMOIRS OF THOMAS SCATTERGOOD/ 

" Thomas Scattergood, son of Joseph and 
Rebecca Scattergood, was born in Burlington, 
New Jersey, on the 23rd of first-month, 1748. 
His parents were members of the religious So- 
ciety of Friends. His father was indentured 
to Thomas Chalkley, to learn the business of a 



100 

mariner ; with whom he performed several voy- 
ages. After coming of age, he appears to 
have sailed from Burlington ; but he soon left 
this occupation and studied law. This he con- 
tinued to practice until his death, which occur- 
red in 1754. 

After this event, the care of Thomas' edu- 
cation devolved upon his mother,who manifest- 
ed an earnest solicitude for his best welfare. — > 
By tender counsel and judicious management, 
she endeavoured to shield him from the snares 
and temptations incident to youth, and to lead 
him in the paths of piety. His literary in- 
struction would seem not to have exceeded the 
common branches of an English education, of 
which he acquired a competent knowledge. 

Of his boyhood, little is known ; though 
from some hints he has left respecting it, he 
seems to have been favoured, as early as when 
six years old, with seasons of serious thought- 
fulness ; but, not giving heed to the secret re- 
proofs of instruction, nor to the admonitions of 
his concerned mother, he formed associations, 
the tendency of which was to alienate him 
from a serious and self-denying life. His turn 
of mind rendered his company particularly ac- 



101 

ceptable to his associates ; among whom he 
was generally a leader in their youthful diver- 
sions ; and, although it does not appear that 
his conduct was marked by any flagrant depar- 
ture from the path of rectitude, yet he became 
much estranged from the yoke and cross of 
Christ. 

About the fourteenth year of his age, he was 
placed apprentice in the city of Philadelphia 
with a Friend in mercantile business ; but the 
occupation not suiting him, he remained in it but 
a short time. He afterwards went to learn the 
trade of a hatter ; and continued at it until he 
was about nineteen years old ; when, his master 
dying, he quit the employment, and learned to 
be a tanner ; in which business he continued 
during the remainder of his life. 

The temptations to which he was exposed 
in the city, led him still further from the 
way of holiness ; but, amid all his deviations, 
he appears to have been watched over and 
cared for by that compassionate Being who is 
a father to the fatherless, and whose gracious 
visitations were at times powerfully extended, 
in order to rescue him from the pit of pollution, 
and make him a chosen vessel in his house. He 



102 

was sometimes in the practice of spending first- 
day afternoon with his companions, in sailing 
on the Delaware — an amusement in which he 
took great delight ; and on one occasion, when 
employed in this manner, his mind became so 
deeply impressed with the sinfulness of thus 
spending the day, that he induced his compan- 
ions to set him ashore before they reached the 
place of their destination ; nor did he ever af- 
terwards spend that day in a similar manner. 
He was often heard to speak of this incident, 
as a remarkable instance of the secret plead- 
ings of the Divine Witness in the breasts of 
even the young. 

Another instance is related of him, showing 
his tenderness of conscience and nice sense of 
justice. When a school-boy at Eurlington, he 
had occasionally taken some apples from an 
orchard which lay on the side of the road lead- 
ing to the school-house ; and when, in after- 
life, he came to see the exceeding sinfulness 
of sin, this circumstance became a burden to 
his tender conscience. He therefore request- 
ed a friend to ascertain who was the owner of 
the orchard at the time he took the apples ; 
remarking, that he should feel most easy to re- 



103 

munerate him for the fruit he had taken with- 
out permission. 

It appears from the records of the monthly 
meeting of which he was a member, that soon 
after attaining to manhood, he was brought 
into usefulness in the concerns of the church, 
and employed in some important services for 
the Society, 

In the latter part of the " Memoirs of Tho- 
mas Scattergood," is found the following re- 
markable account, which shows that he became 
a minister, and w r as made use of by Divine 
Providence as an instrument to warn some 
young persons, who (although he knew it 
not) were about to engage in a frolic which 
proved destructive of life to seven of them. 

u At our last Quarterly meeting held at 
Shrewsbury, our beloved friend Thomas Scat- 
tergood, in the course of his public testimony, 
in moving language warned the youth present 
to beware of wanton behaviour, dancing, frol- 
icking, &c. stating, that he had known several 
instances of Divine displeasure being manifest- 
ed to individuals who had attended such meet- 
ings as these, and directly afterwards had 
gone to horse races, or other sinful pastimes. — 



104 

One instance he mentioned of a young man 
who, on his way home from a favoured meet- 
ing, falling in with a company of persons who 
were collected for a horse-race, was urged 
to ride one of the horses. He at first refus- 
ed ; but being pressed by some of them, at 
length yielded, and in the race was thrown from 
the horse, which occasioned his death. He 
said it appeared to be his business to wain the 
youth present to beware of such conduct, lest 
some of them might be made like examples. — 
" I do not say," said he, " it will be the case ; 
but I find it my place to proclaim a solemn 
warning." 

When meeting ended, twenty-seven persons, 
chiefly young people, embarked on board a 
boat bound for Sandy Hook. But before they 
set off, it was observed that several of them 
were discouraged and ready to give it up ; and 
on their way it was remarked how dreadful it 
would be, if any unfavourable accident should 
happen, after having been at meeting, and 
hearing the advice then given. This was on 
third-day. On fourth-day they went to see a 
monument erected over a person of distinction, 
who with twelve others perished there not 



105 

long before. On fifth-day they walked to the 
light-house ; and on their return went on a 
narrow reef of sand, which is bare at low wa- 
ter, as also the way to it. On this they spent 
some time. At length, observing the tide to 
run fast, they were alarmed, and concluded to 
return. But alas! the sea had hidden their 
path, and covered all their way-marks ! How- 
ever, they made the attempt ; and, as they 
were pressing on, eleven of them suddenly 
stepped into the deep, and were overwhelmed 
as in a moment, and seven of them perished ! 
The others, with the assistance of some of the 
company who could swim, got to the shore, 
though almost spent/' 

REFLECTIONS. 

From the preceding account, the young read- 
er may perceive that, through the secret oper- 
ation or influence of the Divine Spirit, a sense 
was given Thomas Scattergood, of tempta- 
tions and dangers awaiting some of the young 
people who were present ; and that he was led 
to caution them from a motive of pure love, 
in order that they might not be exposed to the 
evil consequences ot improper diversions. 

-E* 



106 

When parents and rightly concerned friends 
give counsel or admonition to children for their 
good, it ought to be respected and attended to, 
although such advice or caution may be oppos- 
ed to the plans and specious pretences of amuse- 
ments, that children and youth try to per- 
suade themselves are innocent. For godly 
parents and friends often know more of the 
deceptions and dangers which attend youthful 
inclinations to pastime and diversions, than the 
ardour of inexperienced children allow them to 
believe. 

Happy might it have been for those young- 
people, had they been willing to be restrained 
by the solemn caution and warning given them 
by Thomas Scattergood ! But they would not 
be so admonished — they followed their own 
vain inclinations, and how awful was the con- 
sequence ! 

It is most likely the plan of this party of 
pleasure had been arranged before they went 
to the Quarterly meeting, where T. S. was di- 
vinely commissioned to give the advice and 
solemn warning alluded to, and that some of 
them felt it impressively. Had those who 
" were discouraged and ready to give up" the 



107 

excursion, been obedient to the advice thus 
sealed on their minds, their firmness might 
have been the means of deterring the others 
from pursuing the project ; and thus the lives 
of the " seven" who perished might have 
been preserved, and all the grief of pa- 
rents, brothers and sisters might have been 
avoided. 

May the harms of these young people be a 
deeply impressive lesson of admonition to all 
others who may read the affecting account, 



GOOD IMPRESSIONS; 

OR EVIDENCES OF THE HEAVENLY FATHER^ 
LOVE. 



When I w r as very young, (I do not know 
what age,) my mother used to take me to meet- 
ing, and set me down on the step by her — she 
sat under the gallery. As I was sitting still, 
looking at the countenances before me, the in- 



108 

quiry arose, " What do we come to meeting 
for ?" And frequently these queries were raised ; 
Who is God ? What is a spirit ? And how 
can He see and hear every thing ? These were 
mental inquiries that were answered by the 
Father of spirits, who opened my understand- 
ing by his revelation to my infant mind. Some 
of these seasons, with the places where they 
occurred, are often instructively remembered. 
I was often drawn into silence, and sought 
retirement to indulge in the feeling of good ; 
and being tendered, the tears would flow down 
my cheeks when thus alone. These were pre- 
cious seasons, wherein was known by my in- 
fant mind the enjoyment of the heavenly Fa- 
ther's presence. 

After I came to the knowledge that it was 
my Creator who made these impressions, I often 
entered into covenant with him. This cove- 
nant, made in the days of tenderness and inno- 
cency, was afterwards broken, by indulging in 
some youthful vanities that I knew were for- 
bidden. Then, instead of peace and joy, I had 
to feel sorrow and remorse. 

But my heavenly Father did not forsake me. 
He still followed after me, entreating me to 



109 

give up to be guided by him who so early in 
life had revealed himself unto me. Many trials 
crossed my path, but still I clung to vanity, 
until I was brought to a sick bed, and eternity 
opened before me. Then I repented in ear- 
nest, and turned unto the Father, and again en- 
tered into covenant that if my life were spared, 
I would be guided by his Spirit. 

After I was restored to health, I again turn- 
ed away from the reproofs of instruction, and 
indulged in forbidden things for a time ; but in 
mercy I was again met with as in a narrow 
place, where I could not well pass by the hea- 
venly visitation. This was a season of deep 
contrition ; but I felt the banner over me to be 
love unspeakable, and I again enjoyed the life- 
giving presence of my God and Saviour. 



110 



A FRIEND TO LITTLE CHILDREN 

thus writes: 

My mind has often been deeply impressed 
with the manifestations of the love of my hea- 
venly Father to me in early life ; and I give 
the following relation of some circumstances 
which occurred at that period. 

I lived in a village called Wilmslow, in Che- 
shire, England. The custom of the village was 
to keep annual feasts, which were called wakes, 
at which there were horse-races. The place 
for running horses was about a mile and a half 
long, as near as I can recollect. The inn-keep- 
ers of the village had their entertainments 
near the place, attended with the fiddle, re- 
freshments, liquors, &c. I was at one of the 
races when about eight or nine years old ; be- 
ing under no restraint from parents, having no 
mother living, and my father manifesting no 
concern to keep me from such pastimes. 

Thus, I had no uneasiness from the effects 
of education. Yet in the midst of music and 
all the other allurements, I was struck with 



ill 

horror, when I saw the listing-serjeant with 
listed boys. And although fond of the music 
which the band played, and pleased with the 
soldiers, yet every fascination that was held out 
was not able to drown the tender throbbing of 
my heart for these poor victims, who were 
likely to become a prey to the devouring sword. 
I tried to stifle my feelings, but all in vain ; 
they felt like part of myself. 

After considerable conflict with these feel- 
ings, I resolved to go home, zm\ to leave this 
scene of trial. Finding an inn-keeper's son 
who was my innocent companion, I told him 
how I felt, and that I must go home. He said 
he would go with me ; so on we went to seek 
peace of mind, which was so desirable to us 
children. The boy who accompanied me, soon 
died ; and I am now left to speak of the grace 
and mercy of my heavenly Father, which pre- 
served me in early life— not because I was so 
taught, nor because restrained by tutors, but I 
speak from an experimental knowledge of this 
visitation of his love, although at the time I 
knew not what it was that caused these im- 
pressions, which secretly led me away from 
evil. 



112 

Another circumstance occurred when not 
more than seven or eight years old. It was 
in the case of a man having drank a quart of 
brandy for a sum of money. The people gath- 
ering around his house, attracted my attention. 
I beheld the poor man whom I had known to 
be very strong and healthy, now struggling for 
the breath of natural life ! My feelings were 
so clothed with pity for him, although I knew 
he had brought it on himself by his own impru- 
dence, that I wept much. He soon died, and 
I heard of it. I went to bed, but could not 
sleep. After struggling with my thoughts for 
a long time, I at last broke out in a flood of 
tears ; for it seemed as if I could not contain my 
feelings any longer. My father hearing me cry, 
asked me what ailed me. I then told him, I 
could not sleep for the thoughts of Joseph Lee. 
The impressions still live in my heart, as a feel- 
ing that our Creator implants in us — of love one 
towards another ; and it is certain that innocen- 
cy and love cannot be separated, but are the 
birth-right of Heaven. 

I also recollect sitting by the fire-side with 
my brother and two little sisters, feeling poor 
and destitute in the things of this world, and 



113 

my mind was covered with the mantle of Divine 
love and peace ; w T hich comfortable feeling w T as 
a source of true enjoyment, until I lost it by 
transgression. 

Jesus was much attached to the innocent, 
teachable state of childhood. How impressive 
upon the minds of parents should be his exhor- 
tation : " Suffer little children to come unto me, 
and forbid them not; for of such is the kingdom 
of heaven." Thus, parents manifesting this 
living concern for their children, to bring them 
unto the truth, — and the children yielding to 
its monitions, they become blessings to each 
other. 



REMEMBRANCES OF EARLY LIFE. 

I had the advantage of concerned parents, 
who were assiduous in their endeavours to 
guard my infant mind from every hurtful thing: 
yet with all their care, I rcmember,when a very 
little girl, how excessively fond I was of dress, 



114 

and of often having clean clothes on ; teasing my 
mother for them, when she thought them quite 
unnecessary. My passion for dress did not 
stop here. I soon began to wish for fine showy 
things, from which I was altogether restrain- 
ed ; our clothing being made in a plain man- 
ner, which often caused me much mortification, 
especially w T hen other little girls very hand- 
somely dressed came to see us. 

We were at this time, too young to compre- 
hend why it was best, and often considered it 
very hard. Then our dear mother, in order to 
pacify us, would tell us she was willing to in- 
dulge us in every thing she could, consistently 
with the peace of her own mind; and she would 
call our attention to some who were very good, 
and encourage us to be obedient children that we 
might grow up like them ; until by degrees we 
would be reconciled for the time. 

When about four years old, I had a dream : 
it being the first one I had, distinct enough to 
be remembered. I thought I was playing on a 
large green plain by the side of a wood; on the 
east side of which, came two roads running pa- 
rallel up to the green plain where I was. One 
of these roads was very broad, and full of gay, 



115 

light, airy-looking people, riding very fast ; 
the other was so narrow that I saw they had 
to go one before another, but they were very 
plain, sober-looking people. As I was looking 
at them, there came up a person and told me 
that that broad road leads to destruction, and 
those I saw on it were going thither ; but 
the narrow road leads to peace and happiness, 
and those I saw on it were certain of attaining 
it. This made me feel very sad ; for there 
were so many more on the broad road, than 
on the narrow one, and to me they looked so 
much handsomer. This dream made such an 
impression on my mind that I have never for-, 
gotten it ; and it helped for a time to reconcile 
me to my plain clothes. 

Thus, at this early age, I was met with in a 
manner suited to instruct my understanding : 
and the remembrance of it had a restraining 
effect on many occasions. Being the eldest of 
several sisters, I soon began to observe the in- 
fluence which my 0}%uons and ways had on 
them ; which often caused me to desire to do 
right. 

1 well remember a time when I was about 
nine, and my sister about seven years old, that 



116 

mother was indisposed, and we were to go to 
meeting by ourselves ; after which we were to 
go to the dress-maker near the meeting-house, 
to get a dress made for my sister. We talked 
much about the fashion : and she was very de- 
sirous to have it made in a way that I knew 
would not please our mother, and seemed deter- 
mined to give directions accordingly. I be- 
came very uneasy, thinking the blame would 
all fall on me. I plead with her (although it was 
sorely against my inclination) to have it made 
as would please mother; at which she wept, and 
seemed very much tried. She thought we were 
by ourselves, and would have it just as we 
liked. I tried to comfort her, by telling her I 
thought it was right to please mother rather 
than ourselves ; and that we ought not to do 
any thing that we knew would grieve her. — 
We went, and had the dress made in the plain 
manner we had been accustomed to wear. I 
well remember how comfortable and pleasant I 
felt afterwards, thinking I had been helpful to 
my dear mother. 

In those days I had frequent touches of Di- 
vine love, humbling my spirit whenever I 
would disobey or do any thing to cause my pa- 



117 

rents displeasure and sometimes I would feel 
that sweet, precious feeling withdrawn, when I 
knew of nothing I had done to cause it to be so. 
I remember once feeling so for several days to- 
gether, and I became very uneasy ; so much so, 
that I wept abundantly, thinking that I had 
become so hard that I should never again enjoy 
those sweet feelings. Then my whole mind 
was drawn out in secret supplication to my 
heavenly Father, for the inshining of his holy 
presence ; which petition was very soon grant- 
ed ; and I was shown that I must walk more 
circumspectly ; that I must not talk and laugh 
so much ; that I must watch my thoughts, and 
not let them wander after forbidden things ; 
and try to example my younger brothers and 
sisters. I cannot describe the sweet heavenly 
sensations that filled my mind; my mourning 
was turned into joy, and I could mentally sing 
of the Lord's goodness. 



118 



From "Friends' Miscellany. " 

MEMOIRS OF SAMUEL W. CLARK, 

OF RHODE ISLAND. 

This remarkable child was born of respecta- 
ble parents, Ray Clark son of Ethan Clark, 
and Celia, daughter of Christopher Green. In 
early life he manifested a stability of mind, 
very unusual for a child of two or three years 
of age ; at which time he often accompanied 
his grandfather when he attended meetings for 
worship ; sitting remarkably quiet, and evinc- 
ing a control over his own thoughts and pas- 
sions, which is rarely possessed by those of 
much riper age. To the most careful observer, 
he" seldom manifested any perturbation or con- 
fusion, when in the company of the middle 
aged, and the aged ; but to the latter he was 
peculiarly and familiarly attached ; and for the 
last four years of his life, sought the company 
and society of such, both social and religious 
much more than those of his own age. 

By the time he had attained the age of five 



119 

years, he very earnestly attended religious 
meetings on the first day of the week, when his 
health would admit ; and living near two meet- 
ing-houses, the weather seldom was such as to 
prevent him attending, nor did he at this, or 
any subsequent period of his life, stay at home 
because none of his connections were going 
to meeting. 

He early manifested a decided preference for 
the society of Friends, and although his mo- 
ther, about that time, had united herself to the 
congregational church, yet his predilection for 
the society of Friends continued, and his mo- 
ther and grand-father Clarke, with whom he 
mostly lived, granting him perfect liberty, he 
seldom attended any other meeting for public 
worship. 

After he had attained his seventh year, he 
generally attended the meeting held in the mid- 
dle of the week ; often when at school, obtain- 
ing the consent of his teacher for that purpose. 
Such was his attachment to the aged part of 
the society, that he was scarcely known at any 
time to leave the meeting-house, after the meet- 
ing was ended, until the most aged (who were 
usually the last) had left it ; and however 



118 



From "Friends' Miscellany. " 
MEMOIRS OF SAMUEL W. CLARK, 

OF RHODE ISLAND. 

This remarkable child was born of respecta- 
ble parents, Ray Clark son of Ethan Clark, 
and Celia, daughter of Christopher Green. In 
early life he manifested a stability of mind, 
very unusual for a child of two or three years 
of age ; at which time he often accompanied 
his grandfather when he attended meetings for 
worship ; sitting remarkably quiet, and evinc- 
ing a control over his own thoughts and pas- 
sions, which is rarely possessed by those of 
much riper age. To the most careful observer, 
he" seldom manifested any perturbation or con- 
fusion, when in the company of the middle 
aged, and the aged ; but to the latter he was 
peculiarly and familiarly attached ; and for the 
last four years of his life, sought the company 
and society of such, both social and religious 
much more than those of his own age. 

By the time he had attained the age of five 



119 

years, he very earnestly attended religious 
meetings on the first day of the week, when his 
health would admit ; and living near two meet- 
ing-houses, the weather seldom was such as to 
prevent him attending, nor did he at this, or 
any subsequent period of his life, stay at home 
because none of his connections were going 
to meeting. 

He early manifested a decided preference for 
the society of Friends, and although his mo- 
ther, about that time, had united herself to the 
congregational church, yet his predilection for 
the society of Friends continued, and his mo- 
ther and grand-father Clarke, with whom he 
mostly lived, granting him perfect liberty, he 
seldom attended any other meeting for public 
worship. 

After he had attained his seventh year, he 
generally attended the meeting held in the mid- 
dle of the week ; often when at school, obtain- 
ing the consent of his teacher for that purpose. 
Such was his attachment to the aged part of 
the society, that he was scarcely known at any 
time to leave the meeting-house, after the meet- 
ing was ended, until the most aged (who were 
usually the last) had left it ; and however 



120 

long any of the meetings continued, whether 
in silence or otherwise, he was not discovered 
to manifest the least desire to hasten away. 

For several years he was particularly at- 
tentive to an aged friend, Paul Greene, who 
was unable to walk without crutches ; and he 
was careful at all times when present, in ren- 
dering him such services as were in his pow- 
er ; and he often visited at the house of the said 
friend, in whose family he would spend several 
days at a time with great pleasure. 

About this time, he showed a particular de- 
sire to attend those meetings, in which none but 
members of the society are accustomed to sit. 
The circumstances attending his first sitting 
with Friends, during their transacting the af- 
fairs of the church, were as follows : When 
the first meeting closed, instead of going out 
with others who were not members, he kept his 
seat ; a friend seeing him, and thinking it prob- 
able he did not observe it was time to depart, 
went out, giving him a gentle push as he pass- 
ed ; this he did not appear to observe. A se- 
cond mentioned to him,that he believed the first 
friend wished him to go with him. He then 
followed him out ; and expressed a wish to sit 



121 

through the last meeting, provided Friends were 
willing, The Friend then proposed to him 
to take a seat near the door; adding, that 
if he sat quietly, he did not think Friends would 
object to it. But this proposition did not seem 
to coincide with his feelings ; he w T as unwilling 
to go in again without the consent of the meet- 
ing, The Friend then left him, and went in 
and mentioned the circumstance, but in rather 
a low voice, and there being other business 
before the meeting, it w T as not observed by 
many, and consequently not attended to. In the 
mean time, Samuel was seen walking the yard 
in a very thoughtful attitude, passing and re- 
passing the door, (which stood wide open) and 
frequently casting a wishful look into the house. 
While walking in this manner, two boys were 
seen coming towards him ; when he saw them, 
he joined them and appeared to say some- 
thing ; upon which they immediately turned 
and went away ; soon after, another boy w T as 
seen coming towards him, whom he met and 
turned away in the same manner, resuming his 
walk as before. By this time, a Friend who 
had observed his movements, got up and men- 
tioned his request to the meeting ; which being 

F 



122 

considered, it was agreed to admit him. He 
was then invited in, took his former seat, and 
sat through a long meeting, without the least 
apparent impatience ; and from this time be- 
came a diligent attender of meetings for dis- 
cipline, as well as those for worship. 

As early as at five years of age, he gave evi- 
dence that his mind was not only impressed 
with ideas of a future and different mode of 
existence, but also of rewards and punishments, 
as the result of the present life, whether virtu- 
ous or evil; remarking of his grandmother 
Clarke, who died some time before his birth, 
that " if she was a good woman, she was now 
happy ; but if not, miserable." At a subse- 
qut nt period, being informed of the death of 
one of his very aged neighbours, " well, grand- 
papa/' said he, "he has had his day ; and if 
he was a good man, he is better off now." 

Being on a visit at the house of an uncle, 
where lived an aged, pious black woman, he 
expressed great concern at finding she could 
not read the Bible, and seemed to feel it incum- 
bent upon him to teach her to read, in order 
that she might enjoy that privilege. Finding 
this, however, too difficult and lengthy a work, 



123 

he attempted to enlighten her mind by conver- 
sation, and reading to her in the Bible ; telling 
her that she had already lived to a great age, 
that consequently her time here must be very 
short ; and urged the necessity of preparing 
for a future state. Whether this made any im- 
pression on the mind of the black woman or 
not, it did on that of her mistress, who died a 
short time after. 

Some one speaking in his hearing of visiting 
a sick man who was in the habit of using pro- 
fane language, he said to his mother, "he hoped 
God would give him ft repenting heart before 
he died. 5 / 

Without any one encouraging him, he adopted 
the plain language, in which he was indulged. 

About the year 1815, he was seized with an 
epidemic, which after eight or nine days severe 
distress, put an end to his probationary state. 
Thus closed the short, but interesting life of 
one in w 7 hose death more are left who feel the 
privation of his society, than most, if not any 
other, who had not longer lived to form the 
bonds of social and religious union. Yet none 
have just cause to mourn, or rationally desire 
his return ; he having given many unquestion- 



126 

poor black boy, a slave) sent me to chop wood 
on a hill side, out of sight of any house, and 
he told me to cut clown every tree on that hill 
side. When I went home in the evenings, I 
often heard them talking of the Indians killing 
and scalping people; so I began to think, like 
enough by and by they would kill me: and 
again I would hear of their coming nearer and 
nearer, and then I thought, sure enough they 
will get so near as to hear the sound of my 
axe and will kill me, a poor black boy here all 
alone. A thought then came into my mind 
whether I was fit to die, and it was showed me 
that I was not. This troubled me very much 
and I felt very anxious — very desirous that I 
might be made fit to die. 

So I stood still, in great amazement, and it 
seemed as if a flaming sword passed through 
me. When it passed over, and I recollected 
myself, (for I had stood so for some time) it 
was showed me how I should be made fit to 
die. 

Thus, I was brought to mind and follow 7 that 
that has been the guide and rule of my life — 
that within me that inclined me to good, and 
showed and condemned evil. Now I consider- 



127 

ed I had a new master — I had two masters ; 
and it was showed me (in my mind) by ray 
new master, that I must not cut down a certain 
tree on the hill side. I knew the tree well 
enough. I had not come to it yet. But I did 
not know what I should do, for my old master 
had told me to cut all the trees down on that 
hill side. I thought a great deal about it, and 
cut on and on. By and by I came to the tree ; 
but I cut on by it and let it stand. — One day 
my old master brought out his axe and cut the 
tree down himself, and never said, " William, 
why didn't thee cut that tree down ?" — never 
said any thing to me about it* Then I thought, 
surely my new master will make way for me, 
and take care of me, if I love him and mind him, 
and am attentive to this my guide and rule of 
life." 

After the respectable and goodly old man had 
given this interesting account of the way in 
which he was brought to follow the guide of 
his life, the following question was put to him : 
" Well, William, has thee from that time till 
now been so careful and attentive to thy guide, 
as never to say or do amiss ?" To which he re- 
plied, " Oh no : I have missed it — I have several 



128 

times missed it." He was then asked, " well 
William, in that case how did thee get along?" 
He answered " Oh ! when I missed it — w T hen I 
found I had said or done wrong, I felt very 
sorry, and I tried to be more careful for time to 
come — never to do so any more, and I believe I 
was forgiven." 

William Boen's guide and rule of life and con- 
duct, his " new master" as he called him, rais- 
ed him from the state of a poor slave, to be a 
free man in good esteem, through habits of tem- 
perance, sobriety, honest industry and integrity, 
whereby he was enabled to become the respect- 
able head of a family, and to acquire property 
sufficient for their comfortable accommodation. 
This " new master" who forsook him not 
when he became old and gray-headed, was the 
same Light that appears unto all ; and it would 
guide every one in the right way as it did him, 
if they would take it for their master and obey 
it as he did. It was the guide of his youth — 
became his Lord and master — preserved him 
from evil — and conducted him safely through 
the trials of life, to a good old age — and sup* 
ported him through the closing hour, 



129 



TO THE YOUNG READERS. 

You have, set before you on the pages of this 
little book, many testimonies respecting the 
intimations of Divine love, communicated to the 
mind in very early life. 

I too could recount various instances of our 
heavenly Father's watchful care over me in 
my juvenile days, in admonishing me when 
tempted to do w T rong, and in rewarding me with 
sweet peace when I had done that which was 
right. 

It is not to convince you that this sure Guide 
to happiness is with you, for I think you have 
all felt its operations, and know it to be a re- 
prover for evil and a rewarder for well doing ; 
but it is to call you to a diligent heed to all its 
monitions, that my desires are chiefly directed. 

In order to stimulate you to begin in good 
earnest to live according to its dictates, I will 
tell you a little of the experience of one who 
has finished his work on earth, and whose spirit, 
I have no doubt, is gathered into those joys, 



130 

prepared for the righteous, where the " morning 
stars/ 5 (those who yielded up the morning 
of their days in faithful obedience to the in- 
speaking Word,) " sing together." He said, 
" In proportion as I endeavour to do well, I 
feel that I am enabled to do so. There is some- 
thing within me that stimulates to good ; that 
encourages me to persevere in what is good ; 
and even tells me what is good. Oh! may I 
ever listen to its silent, but most important in- 
timations. May I ever follow that secret moni- 
tor within me, and both desire and walk worthy 
of its reproofs and persuasions." 

I am now willing to give you, from my own 
experience, one instance of our heavenly Fa- 
ther's readiness to meet a sincere desire to fol- 
low his teachings, however young in years we 
may be. 

At an early period of my childhood, I was 
much afflicted in body. The skill of physi- 
cians, medicinal springs and careful nursing, 
failed to cure me. I was not ill. I could run 
about and play with my brothers and sisters ; 
but I felt very desirous to be as well as they 
were. One day, my dear mother came to me 
and said, "My dear child, all has been done 



131 

for thee, that I can do : — now, if thou wilt try 
to be a good girl, and ask thy Father who is 
in heaven, to be with thee and strengthen thee 
to do right, perhaps he will cure thee." 

Her words made a deep impression, and I 
immediately resolved to begin. I did not wait 
for the coming morning. I watched over all 
my dispositions, my words and my actions, and 
endeavoured not to sin in any of these. I did 
not know, till then, that it was such an easy 
thing to be good ; and the reason was, I had 
a will to be so, and petitioned my heavenly Fa- 
ther to help me. 

As I followed my internal Guide, and was 
obedient to my dear parents, I was favoured 
with clear discoveries of what was offensive in 
the Divine sight. I saw that telling an un- 
truth, even in jest, was sinful. It is not need- 
ful to tell of all the little duties I was enabled 
to fulfil, nor of the many errors I was taught 
to shun. 

Try for yourselves, dear young readers. 
You will find this inward Guide will lead to 
peace ; and as you pass through the cares and 
snares of this life, you will have, nigh at hand, 



132 

a never failing friend to rely on in every time 
of need. 

Be persuaded then to make your heavenly 
Father your friend, by forsaking every thing 
his spirit teaches you is wrong. I can tell 
you, from experience, that every departure 
from duty is a departure from peace. For 
though I continued for a long time in the 
enjoyment of that peace which attends well 
doing, and was much relieved in body ; yet I 
afterwards suffered my mind to w T ander from 
the safe way. I coveted many things that I 
saw, particularly in dress, which I thought 
would add to my enjoyment. In this state of 
mind, I encountered trials and vexations w 7 hich 
I should not have felt, had I not let my mind 
out after vanity; thus going counter to the 
teachings of the inward Monitor. In this un- 
settled state, I continued about one year, when 
I met w 7 ith a close trial in the death of a little 
sister. I mourned the loss I had sustained. I 
often mentally followed her pure spirit into 
the abodes of bliss, and desired to be prepared 
to join her. 

At this time, He whose mercies are new 



133 

every morning, again made me sensible that I 
was encompassed with his love, and that he 
was with me. But I now found it harder work 
to keep near him, than when I first entered 
into covenant with him. The temptations to 
transgress his holy law, written in my heart, 
were also stronger; but after some months, I 
was privileged to commune with him in spirit, 
and I think I may say for your encourage- 
ment, and without boasting, that I was ena- 
bled, through obedience to the teachings of his 
spirit, to worship him in his temple. — The 
heart is his temple, where he loves to dwell, 
when it is kept clean and pure. I was always 
glad when meeting days came ; often did I shed, 
tears then, though I knew not why — they were 
tears of joy and of consolation. This was 
about my thirteenth year. 

Now, my dear readers, I am fully convinced 
that the same Almighty Power that was able 
to preserve me one day, or one hour faultless 
before him, continues able to keep every day, 
and through the course of a long life, the watch- 
ful and sincere mind in a state of acceptance. 

When I look back upon the years I have 
numbered, I can trace my perplexities, morti- 



134 

fications and troubles, to unfaithfulness to that 
inward Monitor, which I ardently desire you 
to consult upon all occasions — acting in accord- 
ance with its dictates. Then will you know 
the truth of the scripture testimony, that the 
mind which is stayed thereupon will be kept 
in perfect peace. 

I am your friend. 



BRIEF ACCOUNT 

OF THE LAST ILLNESS AND EXPRESSIONS OF 

JOHN B. BARKER, 

WHO DIED AT THE AGE OF FOURTEEN. 

John B. Barker, son of Slocum and Hannah 
Barker, of the state of New York, was born 
in the third month of 1816. He was much in- 
clined to sobriety from his early childhood, and 
was of an amiable and affectionate disposition. 
As his years increased, he became the object of 
parental and fraternal affection, in the relations 



135 

of a dutiful son and a beloved brother. Be- 
coming increasingly useful, not only as an as- 
sistant in the business of the family, but as a 
virtuous example to others, the separation oc- 
casioned by his removal was the more afflict- 
ing. During his last sickness, he bore his pain 
(which at times was very severe) with great 
patience and fortitude, and quietly submitted 
to whatever was thought necessary to be ad- 
ministered. 

Notwithstanding much was done to restore 
him to health, it soon became evident that his 
close was near. When his physicians could do 
no more, his father let him know what they 
thought of his condition, informing him that 
the progress of the disorder indicated that he 
had but a very short time to stay with them. 
At first he seemed surprised, and said, "Is not 
father too much alarmed ? The doctor said I 
should get well." 

The afflicted father, feeling concerned to im- 
press the mind of his beloved child with the 
solemn realities of his situation, again told him 
that notwithstanding their near affection, yet 
they must part with him. He then appeared to 
be centred in solemn meditation for a little time, 



136 

as if in a state of deep mental inquiry ; after 
which he said, " I fear I am not good enough 
to die." His father told him he had ever been 
a good child, and that it had always appeared 
uppermost in his mind to do right. He replied 
that it had been so, and that wherein he had 
ever done wrong, he was sorry for it. After 
a short space, in which he seemed to slumber, 
he revived again, and thus expressed himself: 
" I suppose I must die. May you all take 
warning by me. Do as well as you know 
how." There being many present, he said, 
" You all know what is right, and all that is 
required of you is to do as well as you know. 
I have always known what is right" 

To his weeping sisters, he spoke in a very 
feeling and affecting manner, saying, " My 
dear sisters, I am young to give you counsel, 
but I want you to do as well as you can. 
You know what is right, and all that is re- 
quired of you is to do as w r ell as you know." 
His brothers having gone to bed, were sent for 
at his request. On coming to him, they wept 
exceedingly. He looked cheerfully on them 
and said, " We have spent some time together, 
and it is not likely we shall be together much 



137 

more. I want that you should be good boys. 
Dont play with bad boys ; and instead of play- 
ing in the streets on first days, be at home 
reading your books/' He then took each of 
them by the hand and bade them farewell. 

Having taken leave of his near relations, 
kissing them as he took them by the hand, he 
seemed desirous to fall asleep. He lived an- 
other day — a day of severe bodily pain ; during 
which he said but little; yet at times when 
more easy, observing his family mourning for 
him, he would say, " Do not mourn for me, 
but give me up." On parting with some of his 
friends, he took them by the hand, regarding 
them with a countenance expressive of affec- 
tion, and as serene as at any time of his life. 
As the solemn close approached, he said, " I 
am fainting away ;" and thus quietly breathed 
his last. 



"SUFFER LITTLE CHILDREN TO 
COME UNTO ME." 

The blessed Jesus took little children in his 
arms and blessed them and bore this testimony, 
that of such is the kingdom of Heaven, The 



138 

innocent teachable state of a little child is 
watched over for good by the heavenly Parent. 
By the influence of His love, he would keep 
them out of all wrong things and preserve 
them in sweetness. As they are willing to 
dwell within this influence, they are fitted for 
the heavenly kingdom. 

This truth was recently realized by a child 
but little more than six years old, who on being 
told she was very sick and not likely to get 
well, asked, " Father, have I ever told thee a 
story ?" He replied " no, never." " Then," 
said she, " my heavenly Father will have me." 
Calling her uncle to her, she said, " Here 
uncle, take hold of my little hand and kiss it, 
thee can then bid my grandmother and my cou- 
sins farewell for me, for I am going to leave 
you." 

How precious the effect, thus realized, of 
coming early in life under the guidance of the 
Good Spirit. This dear child felt no alarm on 
being told she would not get well. She was 
at once permitted to feel that the preserving 
influence of heavenly love had been, during her 
short life, round about her, keeping her from 
doing wrong ; and her infant mind felt a confi- 
dence that therefore, on leaving her earthly 



139 

home, her heavenly Father would take her to 
himself; and in this confidence there was peace. 



"THEY WHO SEEK ME EARLY, SHALL 
FIND ME." 

Through this blessed promise, our heavenly 
Parent seeks to attract the children unto Him- 
self; — seeks to draw their attention to the 
secret intimations of his love, whereby they 
would be encouraged in all that is good — in all 
things that would promote their happiness. 

This same gentle intimation would also show 
them what is evil, and caution them from join- 
ing In therewith ; also, when a fault has been 
committed, its reproofs will gently lead to re- 
pentance ; thus ensuring a return to happiness. 

Cultivate then, dear children, tenderness of 
feeling; — encourage that state of mind, in 
which the gentle touches of heavenly love can 
be easily perceived, that you may be kept in 
safety, — preserved in all tenderness and love ! 

I knew a child who very early in life yield- 
ed to the government of this blessed influence — 
She can now, with her own children around her, 
look back with feelings of gratitude over many 



140 

past scenes, wherein the watchful care of her 
heavenly Father was over her, tendering her 
feelings, and producing serious reflections ; — 
causing too the endeavour so to watch over her 
words and actions, as not to say or do any 
thing that would cause uneasiness on lying 
down at night. This little girl whose name 
was Lydia N., told me, that when at Trenton 
boarding school, she and one of her companions 
set out to pay a visit. — Their road lay through 
an orchard, belonging to the Friend to whose 
house they were going : as they passed along, 
they perceived some apples under the trees, and 
stopped to eat. While so engaged, they were 
watched over for good by that inward Teacher 
whom little Lydia had early learned to obey — 
so that she soon heard (as she told me) an in- 
ward voice distinctly saying, " stealing ap- 
ples — stealing apples — stealing apples." She 
laid down her apples, told her companion how 
she felt, and they went on their way rejoicing 
in the evidence thus given them, that the good 
Spirit was with little children, to warn them 
of the approach of evil. 

Some children may suppose it not wrong to 
pick an apple from under a tree and eat it, and 



141 

tinder certain circumstances it would not be 
wrong, but Lydia and her companion felt the 
secret reproof 4 , and as they heeded it* the re* 
ward was peace* The remembrance of this oc* 
currence*. simple as it may appear, acted as a 
w T atchword in after-life*, causing in her great 
care not to meddle with any thing (however 
small) to which she had no right. 

A similar evidence in the case of Isaac L* 
Was related to me — I will give it in his own 
words* " When but four years old, I was left 
alone in the room where the loaf sugar wag 
kept I took a lump and eat it — then came the 
convictions of Truth — I thought, what have 1 
done ? — I have stolen^ — I am a thief! — The 
pain I then felt is not yet forgotten, though I 
am now an old man." 

Another somewhat similar instance of the 
convicting operation of the inward Monitor^ 
was told me by Susan M., who when very 
young was sent by her mother to buy a ball of 
cotton ;-— two cents being given her to make 
the purchase with. — When she got to the store, 
she found the balls which were sold for one 
cent, looked as large as those for which her 
mother had usually given two — so she con- 
cluded to take one of them, and spend the other 



142 

cent for herself in candy. This was according- 
ly clone. — But though her mother did not dis- 
cover the deception, and the candy was good, 
yet there was no enjoyment. She felt she had 
done wrong, and was very unhappy. — When 
bed-time came, she retired ; but could not sleep. 
At last, so great was her mental suffering, that 
though she knew (owing to the strict discip- 
line exercised in the family) that she would be 
severely punished, she called her mother and 
confessed all to her. She said the bodily pun- 
ishment received, though severe, was nothing 
to the mental agony felt, before making the con- 
fession. When all w T as over, she could go 
peacefully to sleep, under the consciousness 
that she had done what she could toward mak- 
ing reparation for the fault she had committed. 
Now, dear children, if you would be pre- 
served from doing evil, if you would be kept 
in harmony with the good Spirit in you, and 
in love with all around you, early seek unto 
the inward Teacher, and you will find his Spir- 
it leading you away from all wrong things, 
and encouraging you in all that is good. — 

Remember the promise — " They who seek me 

early, shall find me." 



CONTENTS. 

Page. 

An Address 7 

Early Remembrances 9 

Isaac Martin 22 

An Account of Phebe Wood 24 

Samuel Kilpin 26 

To the Young Reader 28 

An Incident 30 

From a Mother 31 

Secret Convictions 33 

Jacob R ilter 38 

Further Account of Jacob Ritter 43 

The Indian's Acknowledgment 48 

Counsel to a Young Person 47 

Memoirs of Early Days 50 

Job Scott 57 

A Tree 63 

Narrative 67 

Elisha Kirk 70 

Charles Parry 73 

The Divine Witness 74 

Abraham Lower 79 



144 

Narrative 8? 

Sarah Grubb 97 

Thomas Scattergood 99 

Reflections 105 

Good Impressions 107 

A Friend to Little Children 110 

Remembrances * 113 

Samuel W. Clarke 118 

Memoirs of William Boen 124 

To the Young Readers 129 

Account of John 15. Barker 134 

Suffer Little Children to come unto me 137 

&< They who seek me early," &c. 139 



NOTE. 

Several of the pieces in this book are written 
in the narrative style, without the authors* 
names appended — the omission was at their 
request* 



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